#since hes from the 7th host instead of another one

[skxrbrand]

N’kari is quiet. Quiet and not eating some sweet or other, which is...unsettling. Several times, the Reaper looks at the overlarge bird-thing that is the transformed Keeper of Secrets. But...he is just as drawn to his five bloodkin just as much. To Ograx and his sister, Ah’khade, who is bandaging wounds with her gifts of fire....

[dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice]

The Grim Reaper's Guide to Breaking Every Rule of the Universe /// Chapter 2

Bruh. My back is HURTING from being hunched over my laptop lol. For some reason I've managed to shit out this next chapter at the speed of light, but I'm back at uni and deadlines are picking up so I can't guarantee another one for a couple weeks. ANYWAY - ALASTOR HAS FINALLY MADE AN APPEARANCE. Not in person yet, but he's here (in spirit). I also apologise to anyone not from Yorkshire, I've used some of our slang from there and it may not make sense, but MC's embracing her Northener crave for violence.

Summary: When touring America for the sake of it, you go to stay with your aunt in New Orleans for a while, taking up a peaceful part-time job restoring objects. But a few weeks in, a package arrives containing an old radio that's seen better days, along with a note seemingly written by someone who thinks they could fist-fight the Devil.

What you didn't know, was the hell of a path that was now set out in front of you. Not fist-fighting the Devil, but instead a very smug radio host who would have no problem spending the rest of his days driving you up the walls.

But two could play that game.

Tags: Demiromantic-Asexual Alastor x Demiromantic-Asexual OC/Reader - 1920s/30s New Orleans - fluff - angst - EXTREME slow burn - crack - Violence (It's Alastor what else)

Word Count: 6800

Warnings: Period-typical sexism, Period-typical attitudes towards neurodivergency, Swearing, Descriptions of murder and dismemberment. MC'S RACE IS DEFINED DUE TO PLOT REASONS (also because she is based off my OC)

Taglist - comment or message to be added!

Now available on Wattpad and AO3 (please let me know if links aren't working)

< Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 >

PART 1: Chapter 2

Another box for my trinkets it's trinketville.

Meraki (Definition): To put something of yourself into your work. (Noun)

New Orleans, Louisiana, USA – Thursday, 7th November, 1929.

The first four months of your new apprenticeship had you thriving more than ever before since arriving in the US. The last time you had felt this joyous and satisfied you were nearly eighteen, the tickle of the long grass on your cheeks as you laid in the meadow at the height of spring, holding the bunch of wildflowers against the kaleidoscopic swirls of the evening tones of the sky above you, admiring the way the lowering sun hit the petals and the small bugs that floated around with its golden highlights. It was one of the few times you had managed to bring your racing mind to a stand-still; no voices; no random lines of songs in your head playing on replay; no worries about the chores you were procrastinating or the book your friend had recommended weeks ago that you were yet to touch. You remembered the feeling of the summer dress you wore, the texture of the leather messenger bag beside you gifted by the old woman who lived further down the lane of the village. She used to babysit you when your parents would travel to York days at a time for work or personal errands. You loved to skip down that lane, with your hand running along the rough stones of the ancient stone walls that lined the lanes of your little village you had spent your whole life in – also lining your mind with the cuts it gave you as you tried to climb over them with the twins over the years.

The routine of working at the repair shop had brought the blissful feeling of stability back, the hectic frenzy of travelling from hotel room to hotel room, checking your tickets a thousand times to make sure you were on the correct train platform, then checking again. You no longer had to worry about travel dates that would leave you feeling paralysed from doing anything else.

Mr LeBlanc had been an excellent teacher and manager, drilling skills into your mind since you stepped into the shop for your starter shift. It was certainly an experience: opening the double doors to a vintage collector’s dream, an antique emporium filled from floor to ceiling (and on the ceiling). Ralph had brought you behind the counter, to a room in the back that he gleefully revealed to be concealed by a door disguised as a bookshelf. The workshop hidden behind was every antique restorer’s sanctuary, and it was certainly yours. Drawers lining the walls filled with every tool that could file, chip away, or apply anything you could find. In the centre was a large wooden table – thick, sturdy planks covered in chips and splatters of paint and adhesives used over the years. This table would be the place you would spend the next four months, your hair tied back by a patterned silk bandana, Ralph showing you how to work with materials from wood to porcelain, metal to textiles. You would pour over books you had pulled from Mr LeBlanc’s bookshelves until late into the evening, until he sent you home with them in your bag, and you protected them with your life as you returned on the trams (or ‘streetcars’, as Americans called them) in the evening light.

Every Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, he taught you everything he could, and you absorbed it all at the speed of light, your mind soaking up every piece of information like a dry sponge. By month three you had been given the go ahead to work on your first object from a customer – a small, spindly regency era chamber table belonging to a local gentleman. All it needed was some chips to be filled and repolishing, allowing Ralph to be confident enough in your abilities to complete it correctly. Your results came out on top, both Ralph and the customer being satisfied with your work, and you received the praise gleefully, along with the hefty tip the gentleman handed you over the counter. To you, everything was going fine and dandy.

Until October hit.

Apparently there were plenty of warning signs, according to most. They knew this was coming, your aunt knew this was coming. It was what she had said when you sat with her on the steps of the front porch.

“Shops are going to start disappearing.” She said, keeping her gaze ahead as she watched the cars sputter by. “With the rate this is going, I’m going to have to pull the boys out of school and get them working – I can’t keep the walls of this house up by myself.”

It had sent chills down your spine when you had picked up a newspaper, the words ‘Wall Street’ and ‘Stock Market Crash’ staining the pages for weeks. You put your mind and body into helping Mr LeBlanc, desperate for him to keep his business up and running. Unfortunately, as prices dropped, less people wanted to splurge the extra cash on something nice and antique, so you both lowered prices where you could, even going to lengths to hammer fliers to every street-post that advertised restoration jobs for any household item, promising customers that they would save money on repairs instead of buying it new.

It worked more than you thought, and it brought in enough income for Ralph to scratch by. He was also grateful you hadn’t asked for a raise to cope with the financial crisis, flat-out refusing when he had tried to hand you some tips he had received.

It was just the beginning of December when Ralph had called the house phone as you were getting ready for work. Ollie had yelled up the stairs to tell you and you scrambled down in your work trousers with your nightgown still on. Grabbing the phone, you listened to a raspy Mr LeBlanc as he told you he had falling ill with the usual winter flu. Unfortunately, being 63 meant that he was more susceptible to the illness, and was unsure if he would recover. If he did, it would still take a while, so he had asked you that morning if you were capable of running the shop solo. You had instantly said yes, refusing to let any sidetrack be his business’s downfall, so, with your head held high, you walked to his house, picking up any essential documents that he said you would need, and kept the shop up and running to the best of your abilities.

New Orleans, Louisiana, USA – Friday, 6th December, 1929.

It was the Friday of the first week of December when you were an hour away from closing. You had been lucky that it had been pretty quiet the last few days, allowing you to settle into working your first ever Monday to Friday and getting to know the everyday things that were essential to keep the doors open. You had brought an armchair behind the counter – the gap between the counter and the wall was spacey enough for you to fit the chair and a small side table.

After not seeing any customers for over an hour, you had wandered off to the small side kitchen hidden by a Persian rug hung over the doorway to fetch yourself a warm cup of tea and a slice of carrot cake that Agnes had slipped into your lunch bag that day. Returning to the front, you placed the food and beverage on the side table, and sank into the chair, propping your feet up and delving into the book you had bought a few months ago.

Your eyes were drooping by the time you finished the tea and cake, and you rested your head on the back of the cushion, lowering your eyelids shut but remaining awake, knowing you had to get up soon in order to close in a half hour. Though the sudden sound of the shop’s bell chiming had you shooting out of your seat like a cat on a hot tin roof.

Scrambling to your feet, you scooted over to plop yourself on the counter stool, fixing yourself to look as presentable as possible as you faced the person entering. It was the mailman, stomping his boots to rid of the snow from the mild blizzard outside on the shoe rug by the door whilst holding a semi-large parcel under his arm. You recognised him from his rounds of the area, normally dropping off the odd parcel here and there for Ralph. Making sure the curls you had pressed into your hair overnight weren’t flattened at the back, you straightened out the silk scarf tied round the front of your head, flicking a curl out of your eye, and faced the man with a warm smile, to which he returned. He was a tall, young looking lad, older than you, but youth still shone in his eager eyes as he approached you.

“Afternoon ma’am,” he greeted, tipping his snow patterned hat. “I apologise for the snow on the floor, m’fraid the storm doesn’t seem to be letting up anytime soon.”

You waved him off, assuring that you were going to be cleaning up soon anyway. He inquired about Mr LeBlanc’s whereabouts, and you explained that his illness wasn’t letting up any time soon.

“Shame,” he said. “I know you’re probably not getting overrun, but it still must be complicated being a young woman running someone else’s business – especially near Christmas, having to trek home in the cold and wet by yourself.”

“Oh, it’s quite alright.” You laughed with a shake of your head, trying to not let your frustration show at the thought of him doubting your skills because of your gender. “He’s given me everything I need, and I can deal with the weather just fine. Wet and cold is the norm where I’m from.” Changing the subject, you gestured to the half-damp parcel still under his arm. “Is that addressed to Ralph or the shop?”

As if suddenly remembering the reason he was here, he quickly hauled the parcel from under his arm and slid it onto the counter.

“It’s for the shop.” He explained, gesturing a gloved hand to it. “S’pose it’s a last minute repair for a Christmas gift or somethin’.”

Placing your hands on either side, you slid the large square box towards you. Standing up from the stool, you peered at the top. Brushing off the half-melted snow, you read the handwriting that ornately spelled out the address - this was probably another repair.

The parcel itself was probably the neatest you had ever seen anything wrapped. The parcel paper was thick and expensive, the water and snow running off without leaving any trace behind except for a slight sheen, and the edges were folded so crisp and perfectly shaped and flat you wondered if whoever had wrapped it was human. Tied round like a present was a thick twine, looping into a bow directly in the middle of the top. You admired the dedication of whoever had put in the time to wrap this, running your fingers over the corners only to jerk them back slightly as the folds were so sharp they felt like they were slicing at your skin.

Looking back at the mailman, you thanked him for the delivery, and hoped him safe travels back home. Tipping his hat at you, he turned away with a farewell, and the bell chimed again when he opened the door, dipping his head against the wind as he faded into the white wall outside.

When the howling wind finally allowed the door to shut, you began the closing routine, knowing that there wouldn’t be anyone else today with the severity of the weather outside. After locking the exits and pulling the shutters closed and the blinds down, you kept the shops lanterns on as you lifted the hefty parcel with a grunt and shuffled through the hidden doorway into the workshop.

Sliding it onto the table, you got to work opening it up, pulling the twine bow free and taking some small hand-held shears to slice open the glued down folds to reveal a cardboard box.

Pulling the thick brown paper and twine out from underneath, you chucked them onto the other workbench pushed against the wall to the right. Placing the shears down, you pushed your fingernails between the gap of the serrated cardboard and swung the flaps open. Inside was a lot of loose cotton wool, and you reached in, removing the protective layer and chucking it onto the table whilst simultaneously thanking whoever had spent their time padding the box out. This uncovered a semi-large shape swaddled in a maroon-coloured knitted blanket, and you reached your arms in deep to wrap around the object and haul it out.

Laying it on the table, you pushed the box and wool out of the way, and gently began unwrapping the blanket, mindful that some repair jobs may start out with several shattered pieces that you certainly didn’t want to accidentally drop an lose amongst everything. Coming to the final layer, your nails slotted through some of the holes of the knitting and clacked against what sounded like solid wood, and slipping the material off, you had your first look at your new potential project.

It was an old radio. Well, not that old, considering radios had only been in circulation for a decade or so, but it was one of the earlier models, the features you recognised from when you visited the county Mayor’s house when you were in your early teens. It was shaped with a resemblance to a cathedral arch, the wood panelling around the edge looking like pillars that began swirling and spiralling into gothic patterns the closer you got to the top. These patterns decorating the fine grated material that covered the speaker, and a few dials were situated on the bottom half, and you immediately noticed one was missing.

Pulling a stool over, you sat down to get a closer look, and you noted down the damages that came to light. It had obviously been looked after over the years, but, as always, people are prone to accidents, and this radio seemed to have gone through a few. Apart from the dial that was missing, there was a large split down one side, between two of the panels, and scratches and slight dents from where it had obviously been dropped. Grabbing your notebook, you jotted down your initial observations, before diving your hands into the left over cotton in the box to search for anything that could assist you.

To your luck, you found a small linen bag about the size of your palm, that you untied to reveal the missing dial and a few pieces of wood that had come off in some areas. Returning to your notes, you were just about to start a proposal form for treatment when something caught your eye. Looking over to the blanket you had put to the side, your eyes landed on a fancy looking envelope.

Reaching over, your fingers clasped around the paper, the material just as thick and expensive feeling as the parcel wrap, and you brought it towards you, careful not to elbow anything in the process, because if they could afford fancy radios and paper during this crisis, then they certainly were expecting you to repair this with equally expensive standards. Holding the paper up you read the loopy handwriting on the front of the envelope:

To  the Owner.

Turning it over, you pried the even fancier wax seal apart as gently as you could as to not ruin the paper, and opening the flap, you reached in to slide out a folded piece of parchment. Unfolding it, you began to read the matching, loopy words.

---

December 4 th, 1929

Dear Owner,

I do hope this package finds you well. I am delivering this fine radio to be repaired at your establishment, as it belongs to my dear Mother and I would be overjoyed to have it completed in time for Christmas. Unfortunately, it has suffered its fair share of drops and bumps, but from what I have heard from others in our beloved city, you should be able to do an excellent job. The outside is obvious with what needs to be done, but there are areas within the interior mechanics that require some repairs. Now, I would take it to the radio shop, but the man who owns it is oh-so unpleasant, and would take weeks to be returned.

I am sure you would be happy to take on this challenge, for my mother’s sake, and that you will do a splendid job.

Regards,

Mr A. Boudreaux

---

You blinked. Then furrowing your brows, you read it again. And again. Did this guy want you to not only fix up the look of his mum’s radio, but magically know the ins and outs of radio technology? You shook your head, then did a quick once-over of the words scrawled onto the page. Yep, he wanted you to do a Frankenstein and completely resurrect the old thing.

Placing you elbow on the table, you rested your chin on your palm as you stared at the wall covered in tool across the room. There was no way you could do this, not without Mr LeBlanc still ill – though even if he was here, you didn’t know if he had any knowledge on radios. Sighing, you rubbed at your face tiredly, not caring if you smudged the mascara on your lashes, it wasn’t like anyone was going to walk in on you with panda eyes anyway. Letting out a prolonged groan, you came to the final decision of what to do.

Trudging back into the shop, you quickly made yourself another cup of tea, before snatching some of the letter paper and an envelope from under the counter. Slumping back onto the stool in the workshop, you placed the paper in front of you whilst reaching into one of the drawers attached to the table to grab a pen, then, taking a moment to think of what you were going to say, you began writing.

---

December 6 th, 1929

Dear Mr Boudreaux,

Thank you for your enquiry. As much asI would love to fulfil your request, there are some issues regarding certain stages of the repairs. Mr LeBlanc, who owns the company, has taken ill this last week, and it is not yet known when he will recover, and I am the only member of staff he has employed at the moment. Unfortunately, I am not experienced in radio mechanics, and strongly advise that you come and collect the radio and take it to be repaired at a radio shop.

The radio can be returned here for outer repairs, but I am afraid that is the only option I can offer you at this time. The radio will be ready for you to collect from 9am on Monday morning. I do apologise for the inconvenience.

Regards,

---

Signing the first letter of your name, along with you surname, you read over what you had written. Satisfied, you sealed it in the envelope and got to work wrapping the radio back up. Quickly taking a candle, you took a peek in between the crack in the wood, the light shining on the innards. You definitely had no chance of fixing that, if the absolute mess of dislodged coils, wires and metal pieces inside said anything. Reluctantly you placed it back in its box wrapped up and padded with the cotton, before taping it up and re-glueing the parcel paper and twine back in place. It was a shame that you had to reject the request, the payment for the repair would have benefited you and Ralph quite a bit, and it made you feel awfully guilty to prevent someone’s gift for their mother, but it was out of your control. So, with the guilt hanging over your head, you pushed the parcel into the corner under one of the tables on sale.

Doing one last round of the shop, you extinguished the candles dotted around and flipped the light switches off except the main one by the door. With your coat and gloves on, you made sure the scarf was wrapped tight round your neck before grabbing your bag and did one last sweep of the place. Glancing in the corner, you took one last lingering look at the sorrowful parcel that sat under the table, but quickly snatched your eyes away, and grabbing the keys, you flipped the final light switch and stepped out into the cold, looking for the nearest post-box with the letter grasped in your hand.

--------------------------------------------------------------

New Orleans, Louisiana, USA – Monday, 9th December, 1929.

Monday came rolling round as usual, and you began your usual weekday routine of washing and dressing yourself before heading downstairs for breakfast. Scooping some scrambled eggs onto the toast on your plate, you trudged from the kitchen to the dining room, the slap of your bare feet on the tiles echoing through the wide hallway.

Shuffling through the doorway, you sat opposite Ollie, who, by the looks of it, was still waking up as he shovelled buttered toast into his mouth with his head still lying sideways on the table. Reaching over, you slapped the handle of your fork against his ear that stuck out from between his loose, dark curls, and he let out a whine as he sat up to face you with one eye glued shut, the other barely open, bread hanging from between his frown.

“You’ll choke eating like that.” You said as you scooped egg into your mouth.

Ollie dropped the toast from his mouth onto his plate. “Good.” He mumbled. “S’better than Miss Sammie droning on and ooonnnn about nonsense.” He flopped his head back on the table.

“Well enjoy it while you can.” You snorted. “If this crash gets any worse Mum will be pulling you both out to find jobs. And I know you two wouldn’t last a day in the workplace.”

He jerked his head back, scrunching his face in offence. “Like you would be any better.”

You deadpanned. “I’m currently working 9 -5, Monday to Friday, dumbass.” You jabbed back in annoyance, throwing a piece of crust at his forehead.

“Shit, forgot about that.” He grumbled, but perked up suddenly. “Yea, but you’ve only been working full time since last week!”

You chucked another crust. “Running a shop full time on my own – something I’ve never done before??”

“Still.” He retorted, shrugging his shoulders.

You had opened your mouth to retort, but stopped halfway as Allie’s voice echoed through from the kitchen.

“There’s been another one!” he called out, almost excitedly, the thumping of his feet vibrating through the floorboards as he practically sprinted into the room with the morning newspaper grasped firmly in his hands. The two of us jerked back as he slammed it onto the table.

“Amuver!?” cried Ollie, voice muffled by food, though he quickly swallowed it. All evidence of his tiredness now gone, he snatched up the paper and brought it right up to his face. “It’s barely been a week!”

“I know!” Allie replied, his voice rising in volume every time he spoke. “At this point it could end up happening every month!”

You looked between the two of them confused since you couldn’t see what Ollie was reading. “What could happen?” you asked, perplexed.

The two of them froze, turning to stare at you. Their eyes darted to each other, before Ollie lowered the newspaper and spoke.

“…The murders?” He revealed, as if it was the most obvious thing.

You blinked, then looked between the two, more confused. “What murders?”

“What!?” Allie cried, bracing his hands on the table as he leant over it, eyes wide. “You’ve been gallivanting round town for seven months and don’t know about thee murders??”

You leant back slightly at the sight of your cousin’s crazy expression, and slowly shook your head. “I’m uh – not one to read the newspaper often.” You explained sheepishly.

He gaped, clearly shocked at your lack of knowledge about the subject. His head whipped to where his brother sat, and his hand reached out and snatched the newspaper from Ollie’s. You quickly moved your breakfast out of the way, saving your food from being flattened as Allie slammed the paper down and began aggressively prodding at the headline on the front page. Swatting his hand away, you read the giant words printed above a photograph of a lake you didn’t recognise.

‘BARRISTER FOUND BUTCHERED ON EMBANKMENT’

Suddenly intrigued, brought the paper closer to read the front column.

Tragedy strikes again in New Orleans as the remains of county barrister, Paul Morgan, were found on the embankment and in the water of Lake Cataouatche by visitors to the area. Morgan was reported missing last Wednesday by his wife, Martha, when he failed to return home for two days after a night out on Monday with his colleagues. It was reported that Morgan’s body was dismembered, and his head took several hours to locate. However, certain body parts are still missing, therefore the lake has been closed off to the public for the foreseeable future. Police are calling in and searching for potential suspects, and give their condolences to Paul’s close family and friends, stating that they are working overtime to bring the killer to justice and prevent any further deaths. Due to the nature and severity of the crime, it is possible that this is another victim of who the public dubs ‘The Bayou Butcher’. The Sheriff strongly encourages people to stick to an early curfew and remain indoors after nightfall, as the safety of the public cannot be guaranteed at this trying time. (More on Page 5)

You went to flip through, but the paper was pulled out your hands by Ollie who wanted to read it.

“You know what I’m thinking?” Allie hissed excitedly as he lowered himself onto the chair at the head of the table between you both. “This could be another Axeman!”

Ollie gasped, eyes sparkling. “Shit, it could!”

You perked up. “Another Axeman? How long has this guy been around?” you asked as you brought your breakfast back in front of you.

Allie turned to you, eyes shining in excitement. “The first body was found in 1927 – and the rest have been popping up every 2-3 months, but this is the first time there’s been two in less than two weeks!”

You narrowed your eyes in thought. “How do you know it’s all one guy?”

At this question he seemed to get more excited, practically vibrating in his seat as he gestured to his twin. “Ollie and I have been collecting newspaper clippings on every murder that’s happened, and we’ve tried to eliminate any outliers – like, different weapons, ones that are bleedin’ obvious who did it – the rest all have the same MO: they never find the whole body.” He yammered on at light speed, emphasising each word with a loud thump of his finger prodding the table. “Sometimes it’s not obvious, I think they try to throw the police off by going for something small – like a finger – but there’s always something missing, and we know it’s them.”

You frowned. “Them?”

He shrugged. “Could be a woman.” You raised an eyebrow. “What!? I don’t discriminate! Women can be scary!” You slowly sat back in your seat, staring your cousin down. He pointed at you as he looked at his brother with wide eyes. “See!? You wouldn’t be surprised if she dragged a body in?”

Ollie swallowed the food he was chewing. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she caused the second Great Fire of London because someone stole her food.” He said nonchalantly, before casually returning to his toast.

“Exactly!” cried Allie. “No wonder the government wants you all nice and buttoned up in a strait jacket!”

Dropping your fork with a clatter, you looked up at him in shock, mouth hanging open. He froze, quickly realising what he had said, and his face slowly scrunched up as he cringed.

“Too far?” he squeaked meekly as he glanced at you. “Sorry.”

Pouting, you glared silently before picking your fork back up.

A few moments of silence passed, before Ollie decided he had experienced enough of the dampened mood. “You know,” he began, catching your attention again. “We think the body parts aren’t just missing for the sake of it.”

“Oh?” you tilted your head, intrigued again.

He looked you directly in the eye. “We think they’re eating them.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Oo yummy, like a cannibal?” you queried, eyes darting to Allie, who perked back up, nodding. “So… there’s a cannibalistic serial killer running around New Orleans?”

Allie pointed a finger. “Serial killer, yes. Cannibal, possibly. We don’t actually have any proper evidence for that. I’m also going to skip the ‘yummy’ part, cuz I know you would never willingly consume human flesh.”

“You would be correct,” you confirmed with an amused smile, before glancing at the two. “Has mum ever suggested that you two should consider joining the police force?”

All you got were two matching cheshire grins in response.

----------------------------------------

After cleaning up your food, and disappointing the twins because no, you didn’t bring your serial killer books to America with you, because you didn’t want to be judged by the luggage inspectors on the ferry, besides, Jack the Ripper got a little boring after a while.

Even though it was interesting to learn about the current events of the city you were staying in, the subject of said current events did end up putting you on edge when you travelled to work that morning, with you clutching your bag a little tighter, and intensely staring down anyone who looked at you a little odd on the tram. It even got to the point where you had stepped off the tram, and spent the ten minute walk between there and the shop glancing down any alleyways as subtle as you could, even though you knew you would spot anyone against the white snow that reflected the morning sun into your poor, suffering eyes anyway.

Unlocking the shop doors, you stepped in, stomping the snow off of your boots on the mat before picking it up and shaking it off outside. Crossing the threshold of the room, you ducked under the rug into the kitchen, shrugging off your scarf and coat and hanging them up on the pegs.

You were just dusting off the old grandfather clock that was slotted between the shelves of smaller antique clocks when a knock echoed through the shop. Jumping slightly, you lowered the feather duster in your hand and looked over your shoulder to see the same mailman from Friday waving at you through the window in the door, his smile growing as you made eye contact with him . Placing the duster down, you quickly strode over to the door, twisting the locks before pulling it open and sticking you head through the gap.

“I do apologise Miss,” he began after you said hello. “I hate to interrupt you whilst your still getting ready to open, but my boss handed some priority mail to me – said I had to get it to you as soon as I could.” He held a letter out in front of you.

Frowning, confused, you slowly reached out and took the letter from his hands. “Okayyy…” Turning the letter around you came across some very familiar hand writing:

‘To Mr LeBlanc’s Employee.’

“Oh god.” You groaned quietly, your shoulders slumping. This could turn out to be quite nasty if this was going the way you thought it would.

The mailman glanced between the letter and your very prominent grimace. “Is everything alright?” he asked, concern shining in his eyes.

“Yea! Yea,” you breathed, glancing around the street with the dwindling hope that your client would show up to pick up his parcel, but the letter in your hand said otherwise. “Everything’s fine. Just some very small business issues.”

He glanced at your face again, and went to open his mouth, but hesitated, seemingly switching what he was going to say. “Well, uh, I hope everything goes well, ma’am. I’ll see you around?”

You nodded, still staring down the street. “Yea, sure. See you around.” You said distractedly. Quickly giving him a strained smile, you stepped back to close the door, and the man tipped his cap at you again before strolling away.

Walking over to the counter, you slumped onto the stool with a groan, chucking the letter down in front of you. Leaning your elbows on the surface, you rested your forehead against your palms as you glared at the words inked onto the paper. The way it was addressed to you already screamed passive-aggressive, and you hated confronting anything or anyone with a passion, and you certainly didn’t want to confront this Boudreaux guy because you denied his mum a Christmas present. With a loud whine, you slammed your head onto the counter before blindly patting the surface until you felt the thick paper and slowly dragged it towards you. Sitting back up, you held the seemingly innocent envelope in front of you, and stared at it for a couple more moments, before you couldn’t take it anymore and tore it open.

---

December 7 th, 1929

To the Employee of Mr LeBlanc,

I hope this letter has found you in post haste. I am deeply upset that you lack the skills of radio repair, after all it is a growing medium that most should be learning at this point. Therefore I have come to the conclusion that I will refuse your rejection. The fliers you put out stated very clearly that you could repair ANY object, and it would be very disappointing for people to hear that it no longer has that skill to offer, since the only other option for radio repair during these trying times is a very unpleasant experience with that owner I mentioned.

I do hope my Mother’s radio will be fixed on time, I do hate to disappoint her. If Mr LeBlanc does not recover within the period, or you have any queries about the repair, please call the number I have written below.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Best Wishes,

Mr A. Boudreaux

---

If your mouth hung open any further than you would be catching every insect that resided in the swamps surrounding the town.

Was this guy fucking for real??

You scoffed slightly. Then again. Eventually you scoffing spiralled into manic laughter as you guffawed at the audacity that this man thought he had. With wide eyes, you slammed the paper down back onto the counter, staring over at the wall because if you looked at those words any longer you would probably end up tracking this man down so you could shove his mother’s radio up his ass along with the fat metal rod that apparently already resided there.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed back the stool and stood up, deciding you needed you reset your mind before the first customers came in. Marching back to the kitchen, you spent the next five minutes sat in the middle of the floor, waiting for the kettle to boil as you very angrily stuffed the blueberry muffin you had brought in your mouth. You glanced at the clock and pouted as you realised you only had 15 minutes before you had to put on your best customer-friendly expression despite the metaphorical grey cloud that thundered above your head.

Thinking for a moment, you shot back up, chucking the muffin case as you strode back through to the counter, and snatched the letter up, marching back to the kitchen over to the rotary phone on the table in the corner. Picking up the handset, you pressed it to your ear as you spun the number written out on the paper in front of you.

It rang for a moment, and you tried to picture the man who would – hopefully – receive your call. You expected to hear the gruff voice of some 50 year old, that would start yelling down the line about how incompetent you were, especially when he found out you were a woman, before you heard a crackle as it was picked up and a polite and much younger sounding “Hello?” came through.

You froze for a moment, your vision of some rude, old guy whooshed away at the voice of a much younger, more spritely man, and you pictured someone like the mailman, until you heard a louder, drawn out “Hellooo?”, the man on the other end seemingly becoming amused at your lack of response.

Snapping yourself out of the character builder you had in your mind, you quickly spoke. “Hello, do I happen to be talking to–”

“Oh, I am sorry, my dear.” You blinked as you were interrupted. “But I do believe you’ve accidentally called an American number!” The man said chipperly, though there was a condescending undertone – his amusement clearly growing at the thought of your apparent mistake. You guessed it was when he heard your accent.

“I- what?” you stammered down the receiver.

“Oh you poor thing.” He simpered over the line like some fake grandma comforting you after you tripped over. He was clearly having fun – you could just picture the fake pout he was putting on. “Like I said, I’m afraid you have the wrong number.”

No, this was definitely the right one. His attitude over the phone matched his attitude in the letter precisely.

You could hear him being to move to put the phone down, and you quickly called out. “WAIT NO!!” you cried, on the verge of an outrage. “I definitely put the right number in! Now, am I or am I not speaking to a Mister Boudreaux?”

“Oh! Do pardon me.~” He practically sing-songed. Oh, so now he was willing to listen? “Yes that is I, and to who do I owe the pleasure to be called by an English dame such as yourself?” the fake flirtatious tone had you picturing the faceless man laid on his front, kicking his legs as he twirled the coil between his fingers. You pushed that amusing thought down, however, when you caught sight of the piece of paper in your hand.

“I got your letter.”

“Ah,” It was like a switch was flipped, the man’s tone darkening slightly. “I see.”

Rereading the words this guy had put down, you could barely control yourself, and you pictured the time your mother had marched you down the lane to the house of a boy in your school year. That boy had given you a large bruise on your forehead, and instead of telling you that he did it because he fancied you, your mum decided to give him and his family the verbal lashing of your life. ‘I’m not raising you to snap at the slightest pressure like those London lasses, my love’, she had said, ‘You’re gonna go down kicking and screaming like it’s the last thing you’ll do’.

And that’s exactly what you’re gonna do.

“Right,” you began, your Yorkshire accent coming on full force. “I’m gonna need you t’ open yer lug ole, lad, cuz I dunno how you lot do customer service over here in America, but bein’ passive aggressive t’ someone who’s literally done nowt to deserve the absolute shite you’ve just given me makes you out t’ be a right knob’ead, you hear me?” You reprimanded. “If you don’t get your arse down to the shop by the end of the week, I’m putting ya mum’s radio down as unclaimed and selling it t’ the next person I see!”

You quickly slammed the phone down, too fuming to hear anything that Mr Boudreaux had to say. The only reason you felt a little guilty was that you knew nothing about this guy’s mum – she could be the sweetest woman in the world, and you just up and went and threatened to sell her possession! Though, with the way her son behaved, you would be surprised if she turned out to be just like him. Ugh, then you would be dealing with two of them.

Letting out a sigh, you picked up the phone again, instead dialling the phone number pinned to the corkboard on the wall. It rang for longer this time, and when it picked up you received a very loud coughing fit. When it died down, you finally spoke.

“Ralph I need your help.” You groaned, plopping yourself down on the spindly chair next to you with a defeated sigh.

“I’ve got the worst customer in the world.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Does uh, anyone want more memes?

I hope you've enjoyed what I've given you so far, and I do apologise for the sudden dialect change, I was desperate for MC to finally speak the way I do lol. See you soon for Chapter 3!!

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[weelittleweasley]

masquerade (d.m.)

prompt as requested by anon: draco malfoy was your rival in slytherin house. both of you ambitious, bold, and daring. as one of the few pureblood slytherin families left, you promised yourself that you would continue your lineage, but not with scum like malfoy. instead, you would meet a suitor at the annual masquerade ball hosted by the malfoys each year. but what if your prospective suitor is someone you didn’t expect...

pairing: draco malfoy x fem! pureblood slytherin reader

warnings: language

word count: 8.7k

author’s note: let’s say this takes place around 7th year (no voldy) right after the reader’s 18th birthday. also--i took the liberty of naming the reader’s parents just for sake of making things less confusing. 

you guys...would you want a second part to this? i may have an idea for a sequel? depends on how you all like it, but this...kinda went hard ngl

here is a playlist that i found on spotify that works well with the fic! credits to owner! 

Rivalry; nothing like it. It gave you a reason to work harder, faster, and stronger than your rival. You were taught at a very young age that you should never surrender to someone who tries to make you feel inferior. And you took that to heart throughout your time at Hogwarts. You fought wisely with your charisma and charm, earning you the highest marks at school. You were a prefect, one of the top five students in your graduating class, and you were already making plans for your future. 

But that didn’t mean that there weren’t any challenges in your way. Many obstacles stood in your path of achieving greatness. One of those obstacles named Draco Malfoy. The two of you came from pureblood Slytherin families who had been fighting for power that dated back hundreds of years. That only meant that when you both entered Hogwarts in the same year, you had a rival to beat. But Draco wasn’t stupid. He knew how to keep up with you, sometimes surpassing you. Draco was also a prefect alongside you, one place higher than you in your class ranking, and not to mention, Professor Snape’s favorite student.

It drove you ballistic that no matter what you did, you couldn’t outsmart Malfoy. He was always one step ahead of you. He anticipated your every move as if he had studied you for years. But you had something on your side that Draco didn’t expect; divine feminine energy.

You would never fall for Malfoy, not in a million years. But that was exactly the point. Use what you have that Draco wants to your advantage. Your mother always told you that women had the energy of a thousand suns in their eyes and could burn anyone they wanted with just a stare. So that’s exactly what you did throughout Hogwarts. Burn Malfoy.

With just a look in the halls, you would set the boy on fire. With rage, with envy, with frustration, and with passion. You wanted no more but to see the boy fail. But failure wasn’t in Draco’s vocabulary. Needless to say, your time at Hogwarts became full of push and pull between the both of you. A rivalry of the ages.

It was exhausting, being tasked with rivalry at school, but you were thankful when winter break rolled around. You sat in your family’s manor house, the roaring fireplace in front of you as you read an alluring book. The crackling fire warmed up your chilly toes as a green velvet blanket rested over your shoulders. During break, you didn’t have to worry about Malfoy or his every move. You could enjoy yourself. 

As you read, you can hear the footsteps of someone descending the stairs. “(Y/N), dear,” your mother’s voice calls out. 

“In the drawing room, Mother!” you call back.

Soon enough, there your mother was, looking regal as ever as you smiled. Your mother was truly a force to be reckoned with. She stood in front of you, in a beautiful black gown, trimmed with gold and silver, your family crest embroidered above her left breast. Her hair was styled away from her face to reveal her youthful looking face. She was stunning to say the least. “I have news, darling,” she smiles, approaching you before taking a spot on the loveseat that you rested on.

You close your book and smile as you mother sits behind you, combing through your hair, something you always found relaxing. “I hope it’s good news, I could use some,” you tease her, earning a small giggle.

As she combs through your hair with her fingers, she speaks, “As you know, the annual masquerade ball occurs around this time of year.” You remembered watching your parents get ready for the ball as a child. You would sit next to your mother’s vanity and watch her delicately make up her face as her ladies’ maid did her hair. Your mother always wore a beautiful gown from the finest silk, adorned with jewels or lace or whatever she fancied. You remember your father told your mother she could get whatever she liked; your father wanted nothing but your mother to be satisfied. “The ball is open to any pureblood Slytherin who has reached the age of eighteen. And since you’ve have your eighteenth birthday not too long ago, you are eligible to attend,” you can hear the excitement in your mother’s voice. It had always been her dream to see you attend the ball. And yours to attend it.

You smile widely, “I’m delighted. We’ll need to contact the seamstress now if I want a dress in time.”

Chuckling, your mother places her hands on your shoulder. “Yes, yes, dear. But before we talk about what you are wearing, we must discuss the details,” she informs as you sigh. You just wanted to get to the fun part. “The masquerade ball is not just a party, but a tradition. The ball was made for young pureblood Slytherins to meet each other blindly and find a prospective partner for marriage,” you mother reveals as your heart stops.

A partner for marriage? You had just turned eighteen and now you had to think about a partner? You hadn’t even graduated from Hogwarts yet.

But before you can protest the thought of courtship, your mother adds, “It’s how your father and I met in fact. We had danced the whole night and at the end of the ball, he took off my mask and we realized that we knew each other already. He was my partner in my potion’s class at Hogwarts.” She smiles at the memory. “Now, I’m not saying you need to find a fiancé, but it would be nice to be open to it. It’s tradition.”

The thought of finding a fiancé at the ball made your mind reel and your heart race. Sure, the tradition was old, but there was something romantic about it. Especially since that’s how your parents found each other. You nod your head, “Of course, Mother.”

Your mother presses a kiss to the top of your head. She opens her mouth to speak, but instead you hear another voice. “There are some fine suitors attending the ball this year,” your father speaks. He walked into the room a teasing smile on his face as you roll your eyes. “Let’s not overwhelm our daughter with the prospect that she might find her future partner, shall we, Porpentina?” your father tells your mother.

She simply sighs, “Let’s not rule it out though, Samuel. Anything can happen.”

Your father walks over to the two of you, a handsome smile on his face as he shakes his head. Your father was the smartest man you’ve ever met. He always led with logic and had a rational brain. But when it came to you, your father was putty. He loved spoiling his only child, his daughter. “Anyway, I’m glad that you’ve decided to come to ball, my dear,” your father beams as your mother squeezes your shoulders. “I’ll let Lucius and Narcissa know,” he looks to your mother with a nod.

“Wait, Lucius and Narcissa?” you freeze. Malfoy’s. “Are they coming to the ball as well? Will Draco be in attendance?” you interrogate.

Your father chuckles, “Well, I would hope so since they host the ball every year, dearest.” You scoff and let your mouth fall open. Since when was your family alright with the Malfoy's? Last time you were aware, your families despised one another. “I know, it’s strange, but over the last few years, our families have been able to be more level headed with each other. Lucius is still a fucking prick, but he’s been more tame,” your father huffs, making you laugh a bit. “But yes, Draco will be at the ball.”

You immediately rise from your seat on the hardwood floor. “Then I’m not going,” you state as your mother stares at you confused. “You know how much I hate that pretentious, loathsome boy since I stepped foot in Hogwarts. He’s rude and spiteful and inconsiderate and vile. I refuse to voluntarily be in the same room as him whilst I am supposed to be enjoying winter break. I simply refuse.”

Springing to her feet, your mother tries to reason with you. “Think about it, darling. It’s a masquerade ball. You won’t even recognize Draco. He’ll be in costume as well as everyone else. You won’t even know who is who. It’ll be a night to remember, I promise you,” your mother speaks, rubbing your arms. “Besides, I already called the seamstress and she has a beautiful design that she has custom made for you,” she wiggles her brows.

The thought of attending the ball still did excite you. Live orchestral music, beautiful gowns, champagne in golden flutes. It all sounded so regal. How could you let Draco Malfoy stand in the way of your fun? Besides, the chances of you stumbling upon Draco were slim. Sighing, you surrender, “Alright, fine. But if I so much as smell Draco Malfoy, you won’t hear the end of it.”

---------

Meanwhile, Draco stood beside his mother as servants and maids and butlers ran through the Malfoy Manor, carrying fine china, silverware, champagne flutes, and the finest decorations from around the world to decorate the manor in time for the ball. To the common person, this would all be so fantastic to watch. People decorating the manor in golds and greens, preparing for the quickly approaching festivities. But to Draco, this was normal. All the glamor and the splendor was just another day. 

Narcissa holds her son’s arm, linked with hers as she sighs, “Your first masquerade ball. You’ve grown up so quickly, my darling.” Narcissa smiles at her son inspecting his grown face. Where did her child go? All she saw was a fine man. 

Draco smiles kindly at his gentle mother. “I’m not being shipped away, Mother. It’s just a ball,” he laughs, giving her hand a squeeze. “Besides, I don’t expect to find a potential wife at the ball like Father believes...” he trails off.

The thought of marriage made Draco’s stomach churn. It wasn’t like he had a choice. Lucius Malfoy expected Draco to find a wife and a wife soon. Even though the boy hadn’t graduated, Lucius wanted to know that the Malfoy name would continue on for generations to come. He needed to ensure that his boyish son found another pureblood and produced an heir to the Malfoy name. 

Narcissa looks sadly at her son. She wanted nothing but the best for him, but also wanted the same as her husband. “Draco, dear, you know how important this ball is to your father and I. There are some perfectly sweet, beautiful girls in attendance to the ball tomorrow. What about Pansy Parkinson? Pureblood, Slytherin, comes from wealth,” Narcissa starts.

“What about her obnoxious personality or obsessive nature? Parkinson is a hard no,” Draco dismisses the notion. “Who else?”

Narcissa thinks, “The Greengrasses! Daphne will be in attendance since she just turned eighteen. Her younger sister still has a few more years before she can attend.”

Draco shakes his head, “Daphne is a good friend. It would be awkward.” Narcissa sighs and laughs lightly. “Anyone else or am I stuck with Pansy?”

Mrs. Malfoy stays quiet for a while before bringing up the next name, knowing how touchy it is for her son. “Well, I received news yesterday of another pureblood Slytherin who just turned eighteen recently who will be in attendance...” she trails off as Draco looks at his mother, intrigued and curious. “Miss (Y/L/N) will be coming...”

Draco’s face then contorts with disgust. “You invited my biggest rival to the ball?” he exclaims. “Mother, you know how I feel about her! Merlin, at this point let’s invite Potter and his friends to really spice things up shall we?” he scoffs sarcastically.

Narcissa starts, “Draco, please. I know how you feel about (Y/N), but she is a pureblood Slytherin. Her family has money and power and a title. Maybe if something happened between you tw-”

“Nothing will happen between (Y/N) and I, Mother. So don’t get your hopes up,” Draco cuts his mother off who sadly sighs. Draco monitors her sad expression before he feels guilty for his outburst. “I just cannot see myself getting past my feelings for her as they are now,” he reasons with his mother, squeezing her hand as she sadly smiles. “But I did hear that you invited some Beauxbatons to the ball,” he wiggles his eyebrows as Narcissa rolls her eyes.

-----------

Standing in your room in front of the mirror, your ladies’ maid tightened your corset as you sucked in a breath. “Too tight?” she asks, scared that she hurt her master’s child.

“No, Lottie, just fine,” you smile at her as she ties the strings to the corset before taking your gown off of its hanger. “Lottie, can I ask you a question?” you ask as she helps you step into the gown. 

Lottie smiles, “Of course, my lady. What would you like to know?”

As Lottie shimmies the dress up your body, you speak, “When you met your husband, when did you know he was the right one for you? Was there a moment? Or something he said? Or was it love at first sight?”

You hold the dress up as Lottie makes her way to the back to zip it up. “It’s more of a feeling you get in your stomach, my lady. I knew my husband was the one because I felt like my stomach was doing flips and my head was reeling. There’s no feeling quite like it,” she tells you as you smile. Love was so complicated to you. You didn’t understand how it was supposed to work. You loved knowing that there were answers to almost every problem, but when it came to love, you were clueless of its answer. “Take a look, my lady.”

Looking into the mirror, you softly smile. The strapless gown was of emerald silk, hugging your chest beautiful as it came in at the waist as it cascaded down your long legs. It wasn’t puffy or poofy or full of tule. It was sleek and sexy and mature. Your hair was straightened, but pieces fell loosely in your face, framing it. Gold eyeshadow was swept across your eyelids and your lips wore a peachy pink gloss. It was perfect. “I love it,” you smile.

“You look simply stunning,” Lottie added. “Anyone would be lucky to have you as their wife, my lady.”

You smile at Lottie, “Thank you, Lottie. Could you call my mother in please?” She curtsies before leaving you in your room. Nervously, you pace the floor, anxious for tonight’s events. Were you really expected to find a suitor? Who was  coming to the ball? Maybe someone from a different country? A bright, handsome wizard might sweep you off your feet and take you away. The thought made your heart race. 

Interrupting your thoughts, you hear a knock on the door before your mother enters. “Darling,” she sighs as you laugh. “There are no words to describe the way you look.”

You beam, “Thank you, Mother. I feel good, but I’m nervous.” She walks closer to you, concern on her face. “What if there is no one there for me? Even worse, what if there is someone there for me and I miss them?”

She shakes her head, “You cannot think of those things. (Y/N), I raised to be confident, powerful, and smart. And that’s exactly what you are plus more. Anyone with a brain and eyes will see how brilliant you are. No need to fret.” You exhale as she smiles at you. “I came in here to give you one last thing before we go,” she says as she reveals a gorgeous gold mask, adorned with pearls, diamonds, and emeralds. “It was mine when I went to my first masquerade ball. The same mask I wore when I met your father when I was eighteen. I thought that it might bring you some luck,” she tells you.

Tears start to well up in your eyes before you hug your mother tightly. “Thank you,” you whisper as she holds onto you tightly. “Thank you so much, Mom.”

Your mother gives you a squeeze. “I’m your mother. It’s what I do,” she says. “Now let’s put this on you and get ready to go. The ball waits for no one.”

-------------

The ball was already bustling and it had just begun a mere twenty minutes ago. Women and ladies wore beautiful gowns varying of colors and textures, adorned with jewels and precious stones. Men wore suits and capes, perfectly tailored, all very clean cut. But everyone wore a mask to conceal their identity. Each mask beautiful and intricate in design. Some masks covered their whole faces and parts of their head, other just the eyes, and some wore masks that covered their whole head. Everyone was anonymous and that just made your excited anxiety increase.

As you stepped into the Malfoy Manor, you took in your surroundings. Their home was lovely. Beautifully decorated in golds and silvers, accents of black and green. Huge diamond chandeliers came down from the ceilings and twinkled as light passed through it. A large orchestra was settled in the ballroom, playing the finest music your ears have ever heard. You swooned. This all felt like a dream. A very real dream.

At the foyer, you were greeted by a butler who took your coat and another who offered you a flute of golden champagne as you graciously accepted it with a smile and a soft thank you. Your heart fluttered as you examined the manor through your mask. 

“May I escort the two loveliest ladies into the ballroom?” your father speaks as he offers his arms to you and your mother. You smile widely at him before you made your way to the ballroom where the rest of the party was.

The ballroom was enchanting. The walls were golden adorned with the most gorgeous architecture you have ever seen. Painted ceilings of pastel colors with tall candelabras that illuminated them. The orchestra played passionately as couples ranged from ages eighteen to fifty danced across the floor, women’s dresses swaying with each elegant movement. 

Your eyes searched the dance floor, trying to see if you recognized someone’s body language or movements. But everyone looked unfamiliar to you. Almost as if there was a fog over your eyes. 

That’s when your question was answered. “There is a spell cast over the ballroom,” your mother speaks. “To ensure that no one recognizes each other until all masks are removed. When the clock strikes midnight, all masks are removed and everyone sees each other for who they truly are. Exciting, isn’t it?” your mother whispers as you smile.

It was truly a one of a kind experience. You stood and watched those who danced around you, quietly sipping on champagne. Your eyes drifted off to the sidelines as you looked at the people who were your age. Everyone looked beautiful. One girl wore a dress of ruby red and a large diamond necklace that hung gently from her neck as she made quiet chatter with what you assumed was her parents. Another boy wore a velvet suit of navy blue with shiny dress shoes. He quietly stood by himself, watching each and every lady in the room, watching out for who caught his attention. 

Every one of the age of eighteen was on a mission it seemed. These people wanted to find their partner for the night and potentially for their life. The stakes were high. It made your heart race and your adrenaline pump. Your competitive nature was coming over you; you couldn’t help it. You were determined to find someone tonight if it was the last thing you did. 

Suddenly, the music faded away and the sound of a clinking glass filled the room. “Good evening, esteemed guests,” a feminine voice called out. “Welcome to the annual masquerade ball!” she exclaims, earning claps from every corner of the ballroom. “As you all know, the ball is designed for young witches and wizards to find a partner. We welcome each of you with excitement for the journey that lies ahead of you. That being said, the time as come for the eligible witches and wizards to come onto the dance floor and mingle. Wizards, you may approach any witch who is eligible and ask to have a place on her dance card. Remember, do not tell each other of your names! The dances will begin in ten minutes, so get to talking!” Another cling resounds in the ballroom as eligible bachelorettes and bachelors flood the dance floor.

You turn to your parents and give them nervous eyes as your mother and father give you a warm smile. “You’ll be brilliant,” your father speaks as your mother grabs your champagne glass and hands you your dance card. 

With a deep breath, you shake your head and walk out to the dance floor. Your heart was thudding hard against your chest. The moment you stepped onto the floor, someone approached you. “Good evening,” the boy bows as you curtsy to him. “Might I say you look gorgeous this evening,” he compliments you.

You smile, “Thank you very much. You look very nice as well.” He wore a simple black suit and a green pocket square. The detail made you think he was definitely in Slytherin house. Was he in your year? Did you know him personally? Was it Malfoy? No, Malfoy wouldn’t be this kind to you. But then again, he didn’t know it was you. 

The boy speaks, “Could I have the pleasure of having a space on your dance card?” 

He seemed friendly and kind, there was no reason to say no. Maybe as you danced he would become more interesting. “I would be delighted,” you respond as you hand him your card. He strikes the card with two x’s before returning it to you.

“Thank you, my lady,” he bows before walking away quickly to the very next girl he laid eyes on. You were startled at how quickly you moved, but quickly realized he had prepared some sort of script to dance with as many women as possible before his time was up. Clever.

You continue to make your way around the ballroom, chatting to a few more suitors here and there. Some men you found more charming and clever than other, while others you found yourself bored of, politely dismissing their request for a place on your dance card. 

Glancing at the dance card tied around your wrist, you think to yourself about the gentlemen who asked for a space and you granted them the honor of a dance. The first space to the boy who wanted to ask every lady to a dance, the next to a tall, dark, and handsome gentleman with the deep voice, the next to a funny gentleman with a thick Scottish accent, and the last space empty. There was only two minutes left of the mingling before you were to dance with your suitors. 

Too distracted by your dance card, you bump into someone else’s body, making you stumble a bit. “Oh my days, I’m so sorry,” you apologize to the body in front of you.

You look up and meet a pair of ice blue eyes that seem to stare into your soul. Your heart stops in its chest as you suck in a breath. In that moment, it felt like the whole ballroom had stopped moving and it was just you two in time. The two of you said nothing and just looked at each other, deep into the other’s eyes. It was if the man in front of you’s eyes held all the secrets to the world. 

Clearing his throat, he speaks in a low tone, “No, I apologize. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You politely smile at him. “But in a way, I’m thankful that I wasn’t or else I wouldn’t have stumbled upon you,” he casually flirts making you blush.

The gentleman bows before you as you curtsy, maintaining eye contact with him the whole time. It was like there was some sort of magnet between the two of you. Was this what it was supposed to feel like? You remember Lottie saying it should feel like there were butterflies flying around and your head should be fuzzy, but none of those sensations were happening. You just felt hot in your face and your palms were sweating, thank goodness for your long gloves. 

“I’m glad neither of us were paying attention,” you confess as he smirks. “You are much more interesting than what I was previously focused on.”

The mysterious suitor in front of you chuckles. “I can only hope that you have a spot for me saved on your dance card,” he speaks as you blush.

Teasingly you look at your dance card and fake gasp, “Well, would you look at that? One last spot saved for a special someone...” The gentleman chuckles again as he ticks off the last spot on your dance card.

He slips the card back around your wrist as you suck in a breath as he fingers touch you. “I look forward to our dance,” he bows as you reciprocate the gesture. “Until then, my lady.”

His eyes don’t leave yours until the very last moment as he walks away. You could swoon. He was charming, smooth, witty, and even though much of his face was concealed by his mask, you knew he was handsome. He just had to be. Your face felt hot and your mouth was dry. You knew that you would anxiously await him as your last dance.

With another few clinks against the glass, you are informed that it is time to start the dancing. But before people gather with their first partners, people run back over to where their parents were quietly observing. You excitedly scurry to your mother and father and small smile on your lips dancing as you approach them. Your mother smiles, “Anyone interesting?”

You don’t say a word and take a sip of the champagne that your father offered you. “I know that smile,” he beams. “Which one, darling?” You don’t speak. “Oh, tell us, dearest. We don’t know who any of them are, we are just as clueless as you.”

Sighing, you surrender. “The last gentleman. The one I bumped into.” Your mother scans the room, looking for him. “He has my interest the most out of all of them by far. If the dance goes well, I recon he’ll ask me to promenade outside,” you giggle as your mother joins you.

Your father speaks, “With a chaperone, I assume.” 

You roll your eyes as your mother slaps him on the arm. “She’s eighteen, Samuel. She can walk outside with a suitor. Besides, there is security all around the manor. She will be safe.” Your father sighs as your mother looks at you and hands you your lipgloss to reapply. “Go on. Have fun. Play the field, dearest. Remember what I taught you.”

“Yes, Mother,” you beam before heading back to the dance floor.

There, the first boy is waiting for you, his arm extended. You walk arm in arm to the dance floor as the orchestra begins to play a ballroom waltz. His arm is around your waist gently, his one hand holding onto yours as you begin to dance. “Is this your first masquerade ball?” he asks you.

You nod, “Yessir.”

He smiles, “So you’ve just turned eighteen I presume.” You nod again. “This is my fourth ball. I’m hoping to find my one and only here tonight. Do you think you have met yours?” he asks.

You are taken aback by his directness. “Um,” you stutter, “I’m not quite sure. I mean we’ve just met each other.”

He retorts, “Yes, but sometimes you just know, don’t you. You know what I mean?” His eyes are fixated on yours in a fashion that is full of anxiety and nerves as he anticipates your answer. His eyes have a tired look in them, but behind their exhaustion, there is hope.

You gulp, “Nope.” He furrows his brows. “But maybe another lady here understands what you are saying,” you remain hopeful for him as he sighs.

“I am hopeful,” he speaks. “That’s all we can be.”

Before you know it he spins you away and you land in the arms of your second suitor. The tall, dark, and handsome one. You smile as he smirks down at you. “Good evening, my lady,” he speaks in a deep tone that makes you feel like a school girl. “You are ravishing.” You kindly thank him. “So, are you here like everyone else? To find a partner?”

You speak, “I guess so. My parents would like me to be open to the idea of finding a suitor, but I’m still young. I would like to enjoy my time as a single, free woman of my age and status.”

He nods his head. “I see, I see. My parents want me to find a wife here tonight. Me on the other hand? I really don’t want anything serious. I’m just trying to find someone to shag to be quite honest with you. I’m too young to be tied down quite yet,” he reveals as your eyes widen. His eyes on the other hand remain fixated on yours, but aren’t afraid to wander to look around at the other women on the dance floor. You watch his eyes as they occasionally find another woman’s and he drops one of them into a wink. He was a flirt, couldn’t be tied down type. Bedroom eyes that wandered through several bedrooms type eyes. You’ve dealt with those eyes before and were not looking to deal with them again.

You agreed with him on the part of being free and not finding anything too serious, but just a person to have sex with? That wasn’t what you were looking for either. “I see,” you tell him as he winks through his mask. “I’m not quite sure I want something that casual. I am looking for something more consistent, a little more serious than just a shag. More emotional intimacy as well.”

“Fair enough,” he shrugs. “It’s a shame. I found you quite attractive,” he sighs.

But before you can protest, he spins you away from him and into the arms of your next caller, the funny Scot. “Hello there,” he greets you as you meet his gaze. He wears a gentle smile with kind eyes. His eyes are soft and full of childlike wonder. It makes your heart swell to see someone with such eyes. 

You softly smile at him, “Hello again.” 

The two of you dance back and forth, making light chatter here and there, him sliding in a joke when he can, earning a few giggles from you as he smiles. “How has your night been so far?” he asks you. “Has anyone caught your eye yet?”

You sigh, “The night has been tame so far, but no complaints.” He nods. “As for someone catching my eye, I cannot lie,” you smile as his interest peaks. “There was someone I met who I have my last dance with.”

The Scotsman chuckles, “That’s all you can ask for, isn’t it?”

You join in his light laugher. “What about you? Have you met someone yet?” you ask him as you continue to waltz across the ballroom.

You can see a light rosy hue appear on his cheeks as he smiles. “I have indeed,” he looks across the ballroom as you follow his line of sight. And there she was, dancing with the man you were dancing with before. The same girl from earlier with the gorgeous ruby red gown. “She’s wonderful. And I’ve only spoken to her twice and no more than a total of six minutes.”

Giving his forearm a soft squeeze, you repeat his phrase, “That’s all you can ask for, isn’t it?” He smiles. Maybe you didn’t need a suitor out of the Scot, maybe he was a good friend. 

“In that case, we both don’t mind what I’m about to do,” he speaks.

And then he spun you around and off to your last dance. 

And that’s when your eyes meet.

You inhale sharply when his hand finds the small of your back and he takes your hand in his. His eyes were still that beautiful ice blue that stared right into your soul and made you want to tell him all of your deepest darkest secrets. Eyes that could tempt you into making the most dangerous decision. Eyes that could lure you into a trap, but a trap that you wouldn’t mind being stuck in. 

He breaks the silence first. “We meet again,” he smirks as you blush lightly. The two of you begin dancing as the orchestra swells with music, almost as if they waited to play the most enchanting music right now in this moment. The violins hum a hauntingly beautiful melody as the violas and cellos support the sound. The moment was more than you could ever ask for. “I must tell you, I loathe dancing,” he whispers, making you giggle. “But somehow,” he starts. “You make it feel alright. Not good, but alright.”

You lightly laugh, “I’m glad I can make dancing tolerable for you.” The two of you continue to dance, letting your gown sweep across the floor as the music crescendos. “How has your night been so far? Enjoying yourself?” you ask, curious to know where his mind was at. It had only been minutes but you wanted to know everything about the gentleman in front of you.

The gentleman sighs, “It’s been fine. Not particularly a huge fan of balls or dances. But so far, so good.” He drops his left eye in a wink. “And yourself? How have your other dances been?” he asks you.

You bite your lip and take a moment to think. Now was not the time to play a mind game with him, though you so easily could. But you let your heart get ahead of your head and speak, “None of them as good as compared to this one.” The gentleman laughs, turning away from you in order for you to not catch his delighted blush on his white cheeks. “And your other dances? Did they make dancing more or less tolerable?” you joke with him.

Before the gentleman answers, he looks at the ground with a small smile. He looks up at you and gulps. “I actually didn’t ask anyone else to dance. Just you,” he reveals, making you breath hitch in your throat. That was quite the confession. “No other lady caught my eye like you did.” You don’t turn away when you blush at his flirtations. His eyes stare into yours as your mouth runs dry. “You have the most captivating eyes.”

It felt like you were in a storybook in this moment. The way the orchestra played, how he held you tightly against his body, the way his eyes stared into yours. Your eyes harnessing the power and energy of a thousand suns, but his ice blue eyes able to tame the heat they gave off. Why did this feel so right?

“I don’t know if I should say this,” you start, “but I’m going to anyway.”

He laughs, “I love a girl who can speak her mind. Go on.”

You breathe, “I feel like I’ve known you forever. Like this isn’t our first time meeting. I feel like I’ve known you since the dawn of time.”

You can see him gulp and blink a few times. Did your words scare him? Were you too upfront with him? But before you can think of any more questions, he speaks, “It’s like you can read my mind.” You chuckle as he smiles. “I feel like I was supposed to meet you here, tonight, in this moment. Like this dance was...fate. And I don’t believe in fate.”

For the rest of your dance, no more words are spoken. The two of you just sway and dance to the orchestra that swells with beautiful music. You both gaze into each others eyes and watch the expressions that come across each others faces. With the occasional laugh here and there, absolutely nothing is said. Slowly, everyone around you begins to fade and it is just you two in the ballroom. Why was this happening? You prayed that this was a sign. A sign that this was right, he was right. But you didn’t get the feeling that Lottie was describing to you earlier in your room. Your heart was on fire and you felt like you were about to burst, but no stomach churning or head reeling. Instead, you felt like you were burning. Burning for this man. Burning for his touch. Burning for his attention. You could only hope he felt the same.

Before you know it, the orchestra finishes playing and everyone slowly stops dancing. The ballroom applauds the orchestra and you both join in, but don’t leave each others gazes. Soon enough, people begin to leave the dance floor to partake in other conversations or dance with other people or even promenade outside.

You smile at your gentleman and say, “Thank you for the dance. It was...magical to say the least.” You curtsy to him and turn away to go, but wished you didn’t have to.

Without even taking a step away, you feel him grab your hand. “Wait,” he speaks. “I’m sorry,” he breathes. “Would you...would you like to go for a promenade with me? Outside on the grounds?”

Your heart skips a beat as you sigh and smile, causing him to smile back. He had his answer right there. “I would be more than delighted,” you confess. “One moment please,” you tell him before walking over to where your mother and father watched you in anxious anticipation.

“So?” your mother beams as you nod your head as she smiles. 

You had her your dance card and give your father a smile. “I’m going for a promenade outside with the last gentleman I danced with,” you beam as your father nods his head approvingly. “I will see you later,” you speak before walking back to your gentleman as he extends his arm to you. 

Your father holds onto your mother’s arm, “Porpentina, how our daughter has grown.” They watch you exit the french doors out of the ballroom and into the gardens of the Malfoy Manor.

Still arm in arm, your suitor speaks, “Now, I know we can’t reveal much of our identities to each other, but I would like to know more about you.” You smile at him, holding onto his arm tightly. “What’s your family like?”

Smiling as you think of your mother and father, you start, “They’re wonderful people. My mother has been my sun, moon, and stars since I could remember. She’s passionate and smart and powerful. She’s everything I want to be.” The gentleman smiles as you tell him of your mother. “My father is incredibly kind though many wouldn’t believe that because of what he does for a living,” you laugh. “But he’s my protector. He’s sacrificed so much for me and for my mother. He’s the best man I know.”

He squeezes your arm. “They sound lovely.” You squeeze his arm back to let him know that his sentiment is appreciated. “Any siblings?” You shake your head. “In that case, we are similar. I’m also an only child.”

“What about your parents? What are they like?” you question him next.

This earns a gulp and deep breath from him. “Well,” he starts. “My mother is kind-hearted. Braver than anyone I have ever met. She’s suffered a lot and continues to suffer just to protect me,” he confesses to you. “I’m sorry I know that’s a lot, but-”

“You don’t need to apologize,” you cut him off, placing a hand on his. “She sounds remarkable. Please, continue.”

He smiles. “She is remarkable. The best woman I know.” You smile warmly at him. Your cheeks hurt so much from smiling. The gentleman takes a deep breath in before starting, “My father on the other hand. He’s a complex man. We’re not particularly close. But similar to your father, he protects me to the best of his ability. I’m not sure whether it’s out of love for his son or for some other selfish reason...probably the latter...” he trails off. You look at his face as it falls lightly. You feel for him. “But that’s beside the matter. I want to know more about you. What are your passions? What are your ambitions in life? What do you want to do with our lives that can be so fucking meaningless?” 

You laugh at his joke, crinkling your nose as you do so as he watches you contort your face in delight. He thought you looked beautiful when you laughed. “Well,” you catch your breath. “I want to do something that my family never did. I want to pursue a career when I can help people. Other people. And I have no benefit from it. I just want to help others in any way. When I was a child, I used to want to be a Healer. Then when I was a little older I wanted to be an Auror. But now I’m thinking about being a Healer again or maybe do some form of charity work and philanthropy? I don’t know. I have dreams, but I don’t know which ones to pursue.”

You look at the man beside you and he’s smiling from ear to ear. “It all sounds wonderful to me. You seems so selfless. I’m not used to it, I guess,” he confesses. “But whatever you chose, I know you’ll be brilliant.”

The two of you continue to chat and walk through the gardens, discussing future plans, hopes and dreams, and whatever comes to mind. Talking to this man felt like breathing. It was so easy. Conversation flowed like a channel of water. The conversation seemed never ending and you were perfectly fine with that. You had completely forgotten that you didn’t even know what this man’s name was, but to be honest, you didn’t care. You already knew so much about him from your conversations, you didn’t need to know something as silly as a name. 

You walk further and further through the garden until you come across a small area that was covered in rose bushes. It was a strange sight to see, beautiful roses in full bloom in the middle of winter, but with magic, anything was possible. As you walked closer, the masked gentleman plucked one from the bush and offered it to you as you graciously accepted. You continued to walk as he spoke, “There is a game called Rose, Bud, Thorn where you tell someone of the best part of your day, the worst part of your day, and something you are looking forward to. I want to hear yours.”

You nod, “Alright then. My thorn is having to wear this bloody fucking corset top all night,” he laughs at your comment. “My bud is taking said bloody corset off when I get home,” the two of you chuckle. “And my rose...I guess was meeting you,” you bump into his arm playfully. He smiles. “Your turn.”

He sighs, “Let’s see...my thorn is having to dance tonight.” You scoff. “Although, you did make it better...” he teases as you roll your eyes teasingly. “My rose is having the most beautiful, kind, and intelligent woman at this ball with me right now,” he breathes as you blush. “And my bud...” he turns to you as you take a gulp. His soothing icy blue eyes staring into yours made you shiver. “My bud will be taking off this bloody mask of yours and seeing your beautiful face.”

His face is so close to yours, you feel his breath against your lips. Your mouth his dry as you feel him moving closer and closer to your lips. His eyes look at your glossed lips before moving back to your eyes and inching closer and closer to you. Your heart was thumping out of your chest. This was all happening so fast, and yet you were alright with it?

But before he can kiss you, a guard interrupts. “All ball attendees must report inside as per the hosts’ request. It is almost midnight and time for the unmasking!” 

The gentleman in front of you sighs as he turns to the guard and gives him a dirty look. “So much for a romantic moment,” he huffs as you chuckle. He takes your hand in his as you both walk back to the inside of the Manor, retracing your steps. You are only a few paces away from inside when he speaks, “Those guards always know how to ruin a bloody moment of mine.”

You furrow your brows and chuckle, “What do you mean?”

“They always seem to catch me at the worst time to tell me something important,” he speaks as you remain confused. He notices your confusion and laughs. “This will all make sense in a moment.” You contort your face in confusion, but before you can ask any further questions the same woman who spoke at the beginning of the ball spoke again. “Welcome back! I hope you all had a lovely night full of mystery and romance,” she giggles. “But now the mystery is over.” Behind her, the clock strikes midnight and bongs. “The spell over the ballroom has been lifted and you may all remove your masks! Please reveal yourselves to each other!”

Slowly, people reveal their true identities and you start recognizing people from Hogwarts. The girl with the ruby red dress that the Scot took a liking too was Pansy Parkinson. So many other familiar faces are revealed as you chuckled. This really was a magical moment. 

Beside you, your mysterious man sighs. “Finally.” Your heart beats quickly as you turn to him, anticipating who the man behind the mask was. You hoped he was handsome like you had imagined him to be. Was it someone you knew? Maybe an old classmate? Maybe someone from Hogwarts? Who could it be?

Reaching behind his head, he pulls on the silk strings that hold his mask up. Gently he peels it off and runs his fingers through his styled hair. And that’s when your heart stops and drops into your stomach.

The platinum blonde hair, the icy cold, unforgiving eyes, the pink lips that curled into that smirk. It was all too familiar. All too familiar that it made your chest feel tight with venom and anger. How could you be so naive? How did you not remember those eyes? Those eyes that dug into yours. Those lips that spat such cruel and vile words at you when you were just children. 

It was Draco Malfoy.

You inhale a sharp jagged breath as he laughs. “I know, it’s strange, but I’m assuming things are starting to click for you. Especially with how I know the guards and why they let us into the rose garden. But it’s me. I’m Draco. Draco Malfoy,” he speaks with a smile. You feel like you are about to vomit.

Of course, how could you not notice the guards letting you both through the gardens without interruption or protest? How did you not notice his wave of a finger when you needed to be let through somewhere? How did you let him distract you? How did you let yourself become so captivated by the man you hated most in the world?

“I think it’s only fair if I see you now,” he chuckles, waiting for you to take off your mask. 

But instead of taking off your mask, you wanted to run. Run far away. Run so far and forget this whole night happened. Forget every word exchanged with Draco full of such adoration. This was a sick joke.

Draco notices your horror and he speaks, “Are you alright, darling?”

His nickname for you made your stomach churn. You felt ill.

You couldn’t look at him any longer. You turned away and began to swiftly walk away from him. “Wait, where are you going?” he asks as you weave through the crowd. “Please, don’t go!”

Your stomach was churning and your head was reeling. How could this have happened. Then it all clicks. Lottie’s words. My stomach felt like it was doing flips and my head was reeling. There was no way. This wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be. You were in love with Draco fucking Malfoy. This was a nightmare.

That’s when his hand grabs your arm and flips you to look at him. “Where are you going?” he laughs as he looks at you. “Are you that surprised?” he asks with a smile as you just stand there, trying to catch your breath. His brows furrow. “Is there something wrong? Do we know each other?” he asks. “Take off your mask so I can see you, darling.”

In pure anger and frustration, you hastily sigh and undo the masks strings quickly before ripping it off your face to reveal your identity. The smile on Draco’s face instantly drops as he recognizes exactly who you are.

And there you were, two enemies standing in front of each other, glaring at each other in the middle of a ballroom, surrounded by other young couples who were falling in love. The two of you just burning holes into the other. The energy of a thousand suns trying to melt the ice that stared right back at it. Two sworn enemies now destined to fall in love. What a conundrum this was.

“Call me darling again and I’ll hex you, Malfoy,” you breath through pants of sheer anger.

Your stomach was still doing flips and your head continued to reel. Your face was flushed. How could Draco Malfoy and your masked gentleman be the same person? It was impossible. Your gentleman was kind and charming and witty and smart and thoughtful. Draco Malfoy was vile and rude and unkind and selfish and self absorbed and loathsome. There was no way you could be in love with a version of someone who you swore you would hate until you took your last breath.

Draco’s face slowly moves into a cautious one. “(Y/N),” he starts. “I swear I didn’t know it was you. I was just as clueless as you. You have to believe that I didn’t do this on purpose.”

You laugh, “I don’t believe a thing that comes out of your mouth. I was stupid to believe that I could fall for a person as disgusting and despicable as you.”

And with that, you march away from Draco, ignoring his calls out for you as you approach your mother and father. Once they see you, their expressions change from excitement to concern. Before anyone of them can ask what was wrong, you demand, “We are going home. Right now. I want to go home. Please. Can we go home?”

You feel a lump in your throat and your eyes become hot with tears. Your mother grabs your hand as your father pulls out his wand to apparate you back home. The last thing you hear before you leave the ball was Draco’s voice calling out for you to come back.

Before you know it, you are back in the comfort of your own home, face stained with tears as you run up the stairs to your room. You ignore your mother and father’s call to tell them what happened. You slam your bedroom door shut and lock it before letting the sob rake through your body, shaking you from the inside out.

You were foolish to believe you could find someone at a stupid ball. Those fucking masks. Making you believe someone was something they weren’t. It was all a lie. Smoke and mirrors. And you fell for it. You fell for Draco and there was nothing that you could do to forget it. 

You fell for a facade and you would have to live with that forever. How you were supposed to face him at Hogwarts was beyond your control.

[distinguished-slacker]

Anyone else wondering how does this girl’s demon look like?

And I think my popcorn has gone bad...

But seriously it pisses me off that when she had a chapter dedicated to her (chapter 45 when she almost sacrificed herself to allow the others run away from Crowley and chapter 70 when Aoi confronted her) Yuu had to butt in with his ‘family’ bullshit and steal the spotlight away from her. I am so upset like...Kagami you might love Yuu or whatever but let other characters have their own development away from him...especially the girls🤦‍♀️

And for those who loooove long posts and are somehow interested on unpopular characters like me I’ve got some cheap observations, complaining and theorising...

She is so pretty I am crying

For those who don’t know or forgot about it (I cannot blame you though), the name of Sangū Mitsuba’s demon is Tenjiryū. Their name literally translates to ‘Heavenly-Shaped Dragon’ or ‘Heaven-Shaped Dragon’ and let me get straight to the point; guys it sounds more badass than any of the other demons’ names we have! I find curious the choice of “Heaven” though since it doesn’t fit a demon🤔 Moreover, the demon of Mitsuba’s older sister, Sangū Aoi, is called Chijiryū, which translates to ‘Earth-shaped Dragon’ and I find so intriguing that out of all the cursed gears that the Japanese Imperial Demon Army must have in their possession, Mitsuba somehow happened to be compatible with one bearing a similar name to her sister’s demon.

I cannot believe this demon is of a lower series. I mean, it’s HUGE. Befitting of a dragon😤 It’s definitely either the biggest weapon in the whole series or the second biggest. I don’t know about size since Mitsuba’s axe and Shinoa’s scythe are differently shaped but in terms of mass I think the axe is heavier because it looks more compact. Also, my respects for the designer because I have never seen such a uniquely shaped war axe👌

You cannot tell me that Shinoa’s huge scythe bears the first progenitor of the vampire race while Mitsuba’s huge battle axe bears a mediocre demon oh god...

When you have a look at both Tenjiryū and Gekkōin here it’s hard to believe Gekkōin is higher ranked than Tenjiryū.

The gender is unknown although I suspect Tenjiryū is a male by looking at their muscular torso and biceps of their manifestation form. Lol it would be funny if Tenjiryū turns out to be another ripped demon like Gekkoīn because then that would mean we would have another scary demon-cute human pair😅 But I don’t really care about Tenjiryū’s gender or how they look like as long as they are not another androgynous child demon😒

Mitsuba probably has the most aggressive fighting style in this series. For being so small she sure has a lot of physical strength...and she was like this since she was 13 awwww

Tenjiryū’s manifestation into an army of multiple spectral, humanoid beasts (probably dragons) with sharp glowing green blade-like arms and heavenly blue flames is the coolest manifestation I have seen so far in this series.

Tenjiryū has two strengths: one, is that it works in two different ranges, these being close range and mid range, instead of a single range, and two, it is able to be used for both offence and defence.

This manifestation looks so scary in the manga because it reaches so high. As expected of a demon whose name has “Heaven” in their name. In my opinion, Tenjiryū has a scarier manifestation than Shikama Dōji and Gekkōin’s because unlike them, Tenjiryū surrounds the whole area and I am feeling claustrophobic pls.

But I think that the thing I probably love the most about what I’ve seen so far of Tenjiryū is that they fit Mitsuba’s personality. Their style is aggressive like Mitsuba’s personality but if you have a close look most of the times Mitsuba uses Tenjiryū is in order to “protect” or “shield” someone else which fits her caring nature. Especially if you consider that, as explained by Mitsuba herself in chapter 19, manifestation users want to avoid manifesting their demons as much as possible since letting their demons out weakens the host’s body and so leaves them vulnerable to attacks yet Mitsuba is always manifesting Tenjiryū. Such a brave girl🤧

Another thing that I find interesting about Tenjiryū is that all the times Mitsuba commanded them to do something, they always tried to do it which gives me the impression Tenjiryū is quite obedient to Mitsuba. I headcanon that despite the fact that Mitsuba seems emotionally weak, Tenjiryū likes her determination.

However, in the end, looking at Tenjiryū’s name or their manifestation is just something superficial since we don’t know their personality or true potential. So far, Tenjiryū’s manifestation has been used for grabbing something (Mika’s cut arm in chapter 52), as decoys (but are weak individually and they won’t work on progenitors), to protect someone and to slice The Four Horsemen of John from a distance.

Relatively, Tenjiryū is weak but if I remember well, in the fanbook the author said that the rank of the demons is not determined by how strong they are but by how easy they are to handle. Even Kagami went as far as to point out that with demons above the Dōji (or referred as Child too) series there is no clear difference in the strength of the weapons (and this is surprising considering how much the Black Demon rank has been glorified). Tenjiryū’s rank is Dakini, which is just below the Black Demons in the pyramid and above the Doji series. One thing that all Black Demon users have in common is that all of them have been subjected to human experimentation in the past and considering that Mitsuba is human, there is nothing she can do about it. The other requirement for Black Demon users is that they must have a strong willpower and resolution...but this girl has some serious self-esteem issues and indecisiveness behind all that “I am a Sangū/elite!” talk so maybe if she obtains a boost in confidence she will get stronger🤔

However, I don’t really care that much if Mitsuba stays weak forever. This manga doesn’t need anymore INSANE Mary Sues or Gary Stus who get sudden power ups just because they are genetically advantaged. I just want some normal, deep emotional development for her where she lets go off her survivor’s guilt and learns to accept herself for who she is because she has been so hardworking since little and to tell Aoi to go suck Kureto’s d*ck if she is so loooyal to the Hiiragis as she says but maybe that’s asking too much.

My hopes for Tenjiryū’s appearance reveal are small but I still try to remember that despite all that happened in the manga Mitsuba is still a main female deuteragonist with a lot of unaddressed potential and also for the characters in universe it has been less than one day since chapter 70 (while for us it has been almost 3 years) so it’s not like Mitsuba can do something amazing in that short time frame where the focus is on Yuu, Mika and Shinoa. Moreover, I remember Kagami saying that there is something waiting Mitsuba so I hope he didn’t forget about it💔

Additionally, some people have observed that humans and their demons share similarities so I wanted to point out a small observation for this human-demon pair. Mitsuba was born on the 7th of July, which is the day of Tanabata/Star Festival, a popular Japanese festival that celebrates the meeting of two lovers represented by the stars Vega and Altair, who are separated by the Milky Way and can only meet on the 7/7 once a year. I think this goes well with Tenjiryū’s sky related name :3

If Kagami doesn’t give Mitsu attention then I will do so and I don’t give a fuck if I am being annoying

[minutiaewritings]

What am I now? ⋆ Draco Malfoy

A/N- So this is part two to but ‘i knew you’. I was gonna use the rest of the song, ‘cardigan’ by taylor swift. However, while I was showering ‘falling’ by harry styles came on and i got this brilliant idea. This part is in Draco’s pov too:) 

part one- but i knew you

I'm in my bed And you're not here And there's no one to blame but the drink and my wandering hands Forget what I said It's not what I meant And I can't take it back I can't unpack the baggage you left

Draco lied in his bed, staring lazily at the ceiling. There was a party happening in the room of requirements, hosted by the Slytherin house. It was a celebration for winning the quidditch match against Ravenclaw. It was a hard game, so a celebration was in order. Draco could imagine the music pulsing through the room, drunk teens dancing awfully as they rode out their hormone fueled dreams. Draco was much more content with laying in his room, enjoying the rare silence. 

It had been a few months since the start of his 7th year. The war was over, his father was in Azkaban and he was sure to stay there for a while. Draco’s mom had changed, slowly but surely. Over the last summer, Draco had spent his time alone in the large mansion of Malfoy manner. Draco remembered how his mom no longer sat in her favorite lounge, reading one of her disgustingly girly magazines. Instead most of the time, he found her curled up in her bed. Sometimes he could hear her sniffling, choking back tears but mostly he found her sleeping soundly. 

Draco had changed too, he didn’t care for the rivalry of the Hogwarts houses, he didn’t care about teasing potter and his disgusting friends. He didn’t care for a lot of things now. Except Y/N. 

Merlin, Y/N.

The beautiful eyed girl who plagued his thoughts more often than not. He remembered the night at the astronomy tower, the last time he had spoken to her. He remembered how her perfect frame shook with rage before she cursed him and stormed out, leaving the pureblood alone with his thoughts. That night, Draco had cried. He cried alone in the tower, feeling corned. He had broken the heart of one of the most important people in his life. 

Draco knew why he did it, why he pushed you away and broke you. He was doing it to protect you, the last thing he needed was for you to get wrapped up in his death eaters bullshit. He wanted you safe, and if that meant making you hate him, so be it. 

But was it worth it? Was it worth losing you? Maybe you would’ve stayed with him through the war. Helping and soothing him during his night terrors. Maybe you would’ve hated him anyway, calling him a traitor and a monster. He wouldn’t blame you. 

But for now he lied alone in his bed. Suddenly his door flew open, Blaise in the doorway with a drunken smile. “Draco! Theo yacked all over me and this girl, came up here to change. Why aren’t you at the party? It’s absolutely wicked down up there.” His words were slurred and sewed together. He pranced over to one of his drunks and popped it open. Blaise grabbed an emerald green sweater, slipping off his soiled shirt. 

“Don’t care much to be smooshed by a bunch of drunk imbeciles .” Draco said coldly.

“That’s a shame, there’s some beautiful creatures up there. Y/N looks absolutely pang.” Draco wondered if Blaise knew what he had just said. 

“What was she wearing?” Draco asked before he could stop himself. Since when did you party? You never cared to go to any of the house parties unless Malfoy dragged you there himself. 

“I think it was blue or maybe black. Wait!” Blaise held a hand towards Draco, collecting his intoxicated thoughts. “Yeah it’s black. Definitely black” He laughed at himself shamelessly. 

“Black what, you prat. A black sock?” Draco found himself grinning at his friend’s current state.

“A black dress.” Blaise said simply. Draco swallowed hard, despite the voice in the bag of his head nagging him to stay in bed, Draco found himself wanting to see you. He would be perfectly fine with just one glance. Then his hunger would be fine for the night and possibly he could enjoy the party. 

“Stay right there. I’m coming to the party.” Draco rose to his feet and went to his wardrobe. He pulled out a simple, black long sleeve shirt and a pair of nice yet comfortable gray slacks. Draco slipped on a pair of new, shiny black dress shoes before turning to Theo’s small mirror on the wall. He checked his reflection, he looked tired but he doubted anyone would notice. 

When Blaise and Draco arrived inside the room of requirements, he was greeted with the loud music. There were plenty of people there, from all of the houses. He even saw a couple of ravenclaws taking some firewhisky shots. 

Shots sounded perfect right now, it would help Draco calm his nerves. Blaise saw one of his many friends on the way to the drink table, leaving Draco alone as he poured himself a shot. Closing his eyes, he tilted his head back and down the substance with ease. Another one, and another one. On his fourth shot in the span of three minutes, Draco felt better already. His eyes danced around the scenery in front of him, he saw some of his so called ‘friends’. But then he saw you. 

And merlin you looked good. So good. You’re hair was a little longer than the last time he saw you. Your cheeks were painted red as you smiled happily at Harry, who was wrapped up with the Weasley girl. Draco could tell you were drunk, or at least very tipsy. You were sawing softly as you giggled with Potter and his friends. You looked happy, and Draco was content with that. 

After that night night at the astronomy tower, Draco had watched you slowly break. Before summer vacation, he noticed you stopped going to the great halls for meals. You always seemed so tired and empty. You wore a neutral expression almost always. You never laughed or showed any emotion, it broke Draco’s heart. 

Draco was brought to the memory of Pansy and you. You’d been walking down the halls alone when you passed Draco and his friends. You kept your head down as you walked by, and he watched you carefully. He couldn’t stop Pansy’s bloody words. She called out after you, causing you to turn towards the group. Pansy mentioned Y/N’s current state, mentioning and giggling at Y/N’s sudden change in behavior. “Did someone hurt our dear Y/N?” Pansy’s sickening voice spoke. Y/N had stared at Pansy with an empty expression. Draco swallowed as he remembered her eyes. She had looked at the raven-haired girl with nothing in her eyes. No sadness, anger, or amusement. Draco took note of how Pansy shifted uncomfortably under your intense gaze. Then you turned on your heel and left. 

Draco normally would’ve laughed at Pansy’s failed attempt at bullying but he couldn’t. Because Pansy was right, someone had broken your heart. And it was him. 

“Dray.” A girl Draco didn’t recognize purred next to him. He glared down at her. 

“May I help you with something? Or do you take pleasure in bothering people when you’re piss drunk?” He spit out. He repressed a laugh as the girl’s smirk fell and morphed into a sad, shocked expression. When she didn't speak, Draco turned and poured himself a large cup of tainted tonic water and firewhiskey. 

Draco left the drink table and made his way through the crowd, aiming towards a large couch in the middle of the party. No one was sitting on it surprisingly, but he wouldn’t complain. Draco sat in the middle of the couch, sinking into the soft cushions. Draco sipped his drink slowly, wishing he had stayed in his bed. 

But I want her to be in bed with me, playing with my hair and kissing my neck. Merlin I miss her kisses. 

Draco’s brain thought, he shook it away. This was his fault, all of it. He wasn’t strong enough to go against his family, and he had to pay the consequences. 

“Sorry. I didn’t see your legs. You have really long legs.” A beautiful giggle filled his ears as he looked at the girl in front of him. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn’t even realize that you had tripped over his stretched out legs. You were on the floor, on your knees as you looked down and fixed the top of your dress. When you lifted your gaze, Draco’s eyes met with yours. 

You looked sweaty and had rosy cheeks from all the drinks you’ve must’ve consumed. Draco’s heart hammered against his chest as you just stared at him. But you’re face had so many expressions, you looked shocked, scared, happy and sad. Draco swallowed thickly, past the lump forming in his throat. You just sat there on the floor and stared at him. 

 “Hello.” Draco said simply. He wanted to slap his face, hello? really? The first words he’s spoken to you in 6 months and it’s hello?

You stared at him again. “Hi.” He couldn’t read your tone. 

“Having fun?” He cleared his throat, playing with the hem of his shirt. 

“I was.” Now Draco could tell you were upset. You shuffled up to your feet, trying to stable your balance before you turned away from him. 

Draco found himself reaching out to you, he gripped your arm carefully and pulled you back. A flashback from the astronomy tower came into his head. Draco had turned to leave as well, but you hugged him and cried. Begging him to stay. In return, Draco said some of the worst lies ever. Everything he said to you was quite the opposite of how he felt towards you. 

“Y/N. I’m sorry-” A sharp stinging feeling landed on Draco’s left cheek. His head was whipped around before he rubbed his face slightly. You slapped him. “What the hell, Y/L/N!” 

“You...” You’re voice wavered. You stared at Draco, tears in your eyes. “You don’t get to apologize to me!” Tears were now falling down your cheeks. Draco wanted nothing more than to wipe them away, but he restrained himself. “You don’t get to apologize after you broke me. I trusted you! I gave you everything I had. I gave you all my time and love, I gave you me. I-I just wanted to help you, even if it was a little bit. I just wanted to make you happy, Draco.” You looked so small when you cried, Draco hated seeing you cry. Hated it even more that it was because of him. Guilt burned in his chest as you continued. “I loved you with every fiber in my body.  I used to dream about you, about us. And I hate that I still do. I still dream about your stupid, perfect face. But I-I I’m finally finding myself again. I’m starting to feel better too, I’m not gonna let you walk back into my life and fuck me up again. I can’t afford to lose myself again just to have you back in my arms.” You wiped the tears from your cheeks before you looked at him again. “But like you said, you’re done with me. I was merely an experience.” You turned and left, leaving Draco feeling empty with the encounter. 

Draco watched you walk away, you practically walked across the whole room. You were walking as far away as possible from Draco. Draco huffed out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. Maybe those shots weren’t the best idea. Draco could feel himself getting worked up. He was angry, angry that you were walking away from him. Angry that he was letting you walk away from him. 

Draco turned and grabbed his drink off the side table next to the couch, chugging it. Once the drink was warmly settling into his stomach, Draco tossed the cup onto the floor. Draco needed to get out of the party, away from everyone and their wandering eyes. He pushed passed people, some of them cursing at him. 

Once Draco had reached the empty, dull hallway, he took a deep breath. He could finally breathe again. Draco’s feet carried him towards his favorite spot, the astronomy tower. Once inside, he slammed the door shut, wincing at the loud same. Draco could feel the alcohol taking it’s full effect, making his head spin as he sat on the windowsill. So many thoughts were running through his head. Draco rubbed his temple softly, groaning. Way too many shots. 

Draco looked out towards the horizon. It was a full moon, and the scenery looked absolutely stunning. The boy found his mind wandering to you again, images from your guy’s fresh encounter engraved in his mind. Draco really had broken you, more than he had realized in the beginning.

And he couldn’t fix it. He couldn’t take back those awful things he said to you. He couldn’t reverse the damage that had been done. Draco rubbed the few tears that began to form in the back of his eyes. 

He couldn’t get rid of the memories. Memories of you throwing your head back, laughing carelessly at something he said. Draco couldn’t forget the way you bit your lower lip and the way your nose scrunched at the corners when you were studying. Your perfect hair, the way it fell effortlessly around you. He missed those tired eyes you gave him in the early, dewy mornings. He missed your lips, how they molded with his oh-so-perfectly. How they were always so warm and full, in need of his own lips. 

Draco let the tears fall freely. He was tired of missing you, tired of missing everything about you. He just wanted you to come back to him, he would get on his knees for you, in front of the whole damn school if needed. He didn’t care at this point, anything to have you in his arms again. 

----

What am I now? What am I now? What if I'm someone I don't want around? I'm fallin' again I'm fallin' again I'm fallin'

Everyone must have felt drained from last nights party. A few people littered the great hall here and there, eating their breakfast slowly. 

Draco sat in the middle of the Slytherin table alone, scooping a small amount of vanilla Greek yogurt onto the his plate. He sat and ate his breakfast in silence. His mind drifted to you as usual, particularly last nights event.

Did you not love him anymore? Is that why you were so quick to turn down his apology. No, that couldn’t be. You’d said it yourself, ‘I still dream about your stupid, perfect face.’ 

So maybe there was a chance, a very slim chance that he could get you back. But would you want him back? Want him to stick around? No, you didn’t. You had said it yourself again, he heard the words from your very mouth. You didn’t want to lose yourself again. Draco understood that. He never realized how much you gave him until it was gone; until you were gone. 

Draco didn’t blame you for not wanting him back. He was a negative person, that he could admit to himself. He got jealous quickly, he remembered accusing you once of cheating with one of the Weasley twins. Draco wished more than ever that he could go back and take it back, take it all back. But he couldn’t. 

Draco slammed his spoon onto the table, causing a few students to look up from their meals and glance at the blonde. The boy stood to his feet, making his way back to his bedroom. 

Draco stopped in his tracks, looking at the end of the empty hall. Blaise and Theo were probably still snoring away, and he didn’t want to hear any of it. He could go to the Astronomy tower, yet the idea didn’t seem to please him enough. Where could he go? The room of requirement? No, he was sure someone would monitor the entrance after last night. Draco continued to walk, figuring that walking would do him some good. 

Draco went down two flights of stair before his shoes met the beginning of the green grass. Draco began walking towards the greenhouse in front of him. Pulling open the glass door, Draco took a deep breath. The air felt warm and sticky, the smell of soil filling it. It was a comforting scent, Draco wasn’t sure why that was. Taking a seat on one of the chairs, Draco allowed his thoughts to roam again. 

Draco didn’t like himself anymore, he didn’t like who he had become after the war. He missed how care free he used to be, he missed laughing with Blaise over stupid, childish things. He missed being happy. Some nights, while Draco lied in bed, he felt his skin crawl. Almost as if he was trying to shed a layer of skin. Those were the moments he wished he could shed his skin, become a different person. A new person who was loved by all and genuinely good-hearted. 

Maybe then you would be his again, if he was kinder and more sensitive to other’s feelings. Draco wanted nothing more to be that way, not only for you but himself as well. Draco hated the voice in his head, the one that was always hateful and vile. 

He knew he wouldn’t enjoy his own company if he were in someone else’s shoes. Because who wants someone who is an absolute asshole? Not Draco, and certainly not you. 

----

What if I'm down? What if I'm out? What if I'm someone you won't talk about? I'm fallin' again I'm fallin' again I'm fallin' 

And I get the feelin' that you'll never need me again 

In all his years of attending Hogwarts, he never once had a substitute teacher. Draco peered over at  McGonagall who sat in Slughorn’s usual seat in the front of class. McGonagall explained at the beginning of class that Slughorn had been attacked by a student’s potion gone-wrong. Slughorn was in the medical wing for the rest of the day. Luckily, the new headmistresses allowed her students to use this class as a study hall. Everyone seemed to wear the same surprised expression, but no one complained. 

Pansy sat next to Draco, talking his ear off. Did this girl have stop talking? Just for a minute? Draco looked over his Herbology textbook and rubbed his temples slowly. Her constant yapping was giving him a migraine. “Shut your trap, Parkinson.” He mumbled, his eyes not leaving the words written before him. 

“Excuse me?” Pansy sneered, glaring at the blonde. 

“As much as I would love to hear about your loathsome life, I’m trying to read. You should try it sometime, or are you dead from the neck up?” Draco looked at her with a bored expression. 

“I-I..” She fumbled over her tongue, how pathetic. 

“Go torment Blaise or something.” With that she stood, making her way to Theo and Blaise’s shared table. 

Finally, peace and quiet. Draco pulled out a piece of parchment paper and his quill, taking some notes here and there. His study session was short lived when he heard you voice whisper something harshly. 

“Hermione, drop it. I don’t want to talk about it.” You said softly. Your table was just in front of his, giving the boy the perfect excuse to stare longingly at the back of your head without getting caught. 

“Y/n...”Hermione began to speak slowly. “You promised me at the beginnig of this year that you would be honest with me, that you’d speak what’s on your mind. You haven’t been doing a very good job of that.” Draco could only imagine Y/N’s face at those words, she hated when people spoke down to her. 

“Hermione. Drop it. Now, I’m not telling you about what happened at the party the other night. I have every right to not tell you anything.” Draco could tell you were upset by the tone in your voice and the way your posture slouched slightly. 

“But you have to, you prom-”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass what I promised! I’m not talking about Draco anymore, I have no need to! If you want me to heal and move on so bad; stop asking me about him every bloody minute! It’s exhausting.” Your voice was a little louder now. A couple of students turned and eyed you curiously. 

Hermione tucked her head down slightly, mumbling out an apology. Draco’s quill suddenly snapped in his grasp, the noise causing you to turn and look at the cause. 

Draco stared at you, sadness and anger evident in his beautiful blue eyes. He could tell you read his face with ease, you chewed on your bottom lip nervously. You turned forward, Draco still staring at you. Before Draco realized what he was doing, he stood to his feet, scrapping his belongings into his bag sloppily. He stormed out of the class, ignoring everyone’s confused gazes and McGonagall’s shrill voice. 

He let his legs carry him wherever they wished. Draco felt dizzy with all the thoughts swarming around him. You didn’t want to talk to him, you didn’t even want to speak his name. It hurt than Draco could ever imagine, he was losing you. Draco’s hands shook as he waved at the Slytherin portrait before speaking the password with a shaky breath. Once in the common room, Draco sat on the leather couch. He threw his bag on the floor and sighed heavily. Maybe he had lost you, for good.

Would Draco be able to live in a world with her? Could he wake up every morning knowing that the girl he loved the most resented him? No. He couldn’t. The thought alone of never holding you again caused bile to crawl and fight at the back of his throat. He had to fix this, Draco needed to get you back. But how? Surely you wouldn’t want him back, but still Draco needed to fight for you. 

 ----

You said you cared And you missed me, too And I'm well aware I write too many songs about you And the coffee's out At the Beachwood Café And it kills me 'cause I know we've run out of things we can say

Draco stood nervously outside of the library, waiting for you. He knew every Wednesday you would come to the library after your last class, you used the time to catch up with homework and your studies. He always admired how hard working you were. 

Draco sucked in a harsh breath as he saw you making your way towards him, or more so the library. You didn’t even divert your eyes to the boy as you passed him. Draco frowned, catching up with you. “Y/N.” He said quietly so Madame Pince wouldn’t chew him out. 

You ignored him as you continued walking towards your usual table. When you took a seat, Draco followed. You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. He could tell you were already annoyed. “Y/N, can I have a word with you please?” Draco asked gently. 

“I suppose you’re already here, Malfoy. What do you want?” You were cold, harsh. 

Draco swallowed thickly before clearing his throat. Why was he so bloody nervous? “Look, I’m sorry. I know you hate me now, but I’m still madly in love with you. I want us again, I need you to be mine again.” Draco offered you soft eyes. 

“No.” You said simply as you pulled out your tattered potions book. 

“Fine, hate me all you want Y/L/N. But all I’m asking is for you to grab one butterbeer with me this weekend, please. We can sit in complete silence if that’s what you wish. All I want is for us to dissolve this tension at the very least.” 

You knaweled on your lower lip, fingers fiddling with the collar of your shirt. “Fine, only so we can both move on and you’ll leave me alone.”  

Draco tried to hide the frown that was dying to creep up onto his lips. He nodded quickly. “Sure, whatever. Meet me at the Leaky Cauldron half past four.” Draco grabbed his belongings and left the library. 

The weekend came faster than Draco wished it to. It wasn’t that he was unhappy to see you, he was above the clouds with that idea. The boy was just nervous, extremely nervous. The type of nervous that caused him to constantly wipe his hands on his pants to rid the moisture from it. 

You were twenty minutes late, where the hell were you? Where you blowing him off? Draco had considered this may happen. Draco was pulled from his thoughts as he saw you approach him. You pulled out a chair and sat down silently. “I got you a butterbeer with extra foam, just how you like it.” Draco pushed your glass towards you with his won. 

“Thank you.” You said quietly, He could see your cheeks growing a beautiful shade of red. Maybe this would go good, hopefully. 

Silence filled the air between the two students, each one of them having millions and millions of thoughts crossing their brains. Draco bounced his leg anxiously under the table. “Thank you for coming, really.” Draco said softly, looking up at you. You nodded shortly.

“Sure, no problem.” Silence again. 

“I miss you.” Draco said before he could comprehend what he just said. You looked at him with wide eyes.

“I-I miss you too.” For the first time in forever, Draco smiled a genuine smile. 

“Really?” He couldn’t believe you. 

“I do.” You ran a hand through your hair, letting out a soft sigh.

“Do you still care about me?” 

“That’s my problem Draco, I never stopped caring about you.” You admitted. Draco’s eyes widened, you did care for him. This was going better than expected. 

Silence filled the air once more as you finished your butter beer. Draco wasn’t sure what to say. You didn’t seem what know what to say either. The silence was killing him, the two of you never had an awkward moment ever. Conversation came with ease, and he always enjoyed talking to you. You made him laugh, his real snorting laugh. But that seemed like such a long time ago, now you guys sat in awkwardness. No words spoken and eye contact avoided. 

“I have to go, I promised Ron I would help him study.” You began to stand, causing Draco’s chest to tighten. Draco nodded curtly. 

“Sure.” With that you left, leaving the boy to stare at your empty glass. 

----

What am I now? What am I now? What if you're someone I just want around? I'm fallin' again I'm fallin' again I'm fallin'

It had been three long, atrocious weeks since you had met Draco at the Leaky Cauldron. He hadn’t spoken to you since, even though he was dying to hear your voice again. You seemed to be avoiding him. It hurt when you dodged his eyes through the crowed hallways and how you always seemed to be leaving wherever he arrived. Draco hadn’t slept in over 24 hours. His eyes stung as he walked through the court yard, since when was the sun so bright? Draco rubbed a hand over his eyes and groaned slightly. Merlin he just wanted his life back, he just wanted you back. 

“What’s the matter Malfoy?” Blaise said from beside him. Draco had completely forgotten they have been walking together. 

“Nothing.” Draco shrugged, Blaise knew he was lying.

“Your an awful liar.” Blaise laughed deeply. 

“Oh yeah? And you’re an impressionable twat.” Draco sneered, glaring at his best friend. 

Blaise stopped walking, turning towards Draco. “What’s wrong? Seriously mate, I know you didn’t sleep last night. And you’re far more irritable then usual.”

Draco sighed. “It’s Y/N. I want her back but she seems to want nothing to do with me.”

“Didn’t you guys just go to Hogsmeade together a couple weeks back?” Blaise raised a curious eyebrow. Draco nodded. 

“But it wasn’t a date, we barely even spoke to each other. It was disastrous.”

“You need to be honest-”

“I have been!” Draco interrupted defensively. 

“Let me finish, you git! You need to be honest with her, bring her somewhere private and be honest. Tell her everything Draco, you need to show her that you’re genuinely sorry. That you want her back.” Blaise said simply with a shrug of his shoulders. 

Draco pondered the idea for a moment. “You’re right. You’re so bloody right!” Draco’s mood changed drastically. He was now more alert, looking around the court yard for you. You were nowhere to be found, of course. 

“Can you do me one, Blaise? Tell Y/N to meet me at our old spot at midnight.” Draco looked at his friend with a pleading expression. 

“I despise getting wrapped up in your shit, Malfoy. But I’ll do my best.” Draco smiled before waving goodbye to his friend. 

“Thank you! I’ve got to run to charms or Flitwick will have my head on a platter.” Draco hurried off, speed walking and shoving aside the people that walked too slow for his liking. Making it just in time, Draco took a seat next to some Hufflepuff girl. She looked nervously over at him, he met her eyes. 

“Hello, do you have a staring problem sweetheart?” Draco said smoothly. The girl shook her head quickly, mumbling an apology and turning her attention to the front of the classroom. Flitwick began the lecture, causing Draco to yawn softly. Merlin he felt drained.

Draco sat nervously on the windowsill on the astronomy tower. Draco had decided during Charms that this was gonna be his final attempt at getting you back. After tonight, if you didn’t want him then fine, so be it. Draco tried his best to believe that this was going to work, but he knew with his luck it most likely wouldn’t The door of the astronomy tower creaked up, making Draco turn. 

“Blaise?” You said questioningly as you stepped inside, shutting the door softly. The moonlight casted it’s presence on you, making Draco’s heart thump harder than before. 

“No, It’s me.” Draco spoke smoothly, trying his best to sound sure of himself. 

“Why did you have me meet you here?” You asked suspiciously. 

“I have something to tell you. And this will be the last time I tell you this.” Draco took a deep breath as he stood to his feet. His damn palms were sweating again. Draco wiped his hands on his pants before clearing his throat and speaking. “Look, Y/N. I fucked up. Big time. Hurting you was the worst mistake of my life, and trust me as you know I’ve made plenty of mistakes in my life. I take it all back, all those vile things I said to you in this very room so many months ago. None of it was true, not then and not now. You’re everything to me. Everything. I only said those things so you could hate me, I wanted you to stay far away from me as possible. I didn’t want you to get caught up with a death eater. I wanted to protect you. I love you, Y/N. All I’m asking is for one more chance, one more chance to have you be mine once more. Please.” Draco swallowed the growing saliva in his mouth. “If you don’t want me back, fine. I’ll leave you alone forever. I’ll never bother you again. I promise, you have my word. Draco watched as you raked through your brain, trying to put your words together.

After a long, painful moment of silence, you finally spoke. “How do I even know you’re serious? you played with my emotions Draco, you had such terrible mood swings and I tried so hard to be patient, I’m still patient dammit. It just hurts when you’re warm and loving one day and completely distant and cold the next.” He watched you spoke, a frown cracking through his “unfazed” façade.

Draco straightened his face. “Okay. I understand that and um-erm-I..” Draco scratched the back of his neck nervously. “I’m sorry, I’m trying to work on controlling my emotions, my outbursts. I love you Y/N. I love you with the type of love that I cant describe. you consume me, utterly consume me. every time I'm with you it’s like you’ve completely engulfed me. I love you okay? I want to be a better person for you, eventually for myself too hopefully. I want to be the person you want around, the person who show your ugliest side to, the person you can come to whenever you’re breaking.” Draco felt his cheeks begin to burn as tears filled the boys eyes. Letting out a shaky breath, Draco continued. “I-I never had someone who truly loved me, my dad has always been distant and foul towards me. Anytime I showed any signs of weakness, punishment. Because purebloods and wealthy people have to be strong and unyielding. my mother simply based her parenting on whatever my father wanted and whatever made my family look the best. you however,” Draco stood closer to you now, gripping your hands in his. He rubbed soft circles into your skin as he continued. “You Y/N, You’ve shown me what was love is, what it’s meant to be. You’re so understanding. Everytime I think I went too far and I’ve lost you, you understand and you forgive me. You never have held me to my past, my family’s decisions. You only hold me to my word, and myself alone. That is why I love you. Why I’m so bloody in love with you, right now! At this very moment I would do anything to call you mine again, to have you by my side.” Draco searched your face as you looked at him with tears in your eyes.

Then, you did what he’s missed the most. You kissed him. It was a gentle kiss, no rushed movements, no searching hands. Only two people expressing all the words they couldn’t say with one kiss. Draco pulled away, trying to suppress the smile playing on his lips. “Does this mean you’re mine again?” You nodded shyly, causing Draco’s heart to spike. “Merlin!” He yelled at the top his lungs, causing you to laugh. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into the tightest hug he could muster.

“Crushing. Me.” You wheezed out with a repressed giggle.

“I’m sorry my love!” He exclaimed. “I promise you won’t regret your decision. I will spend every moment to make up for our lost time, I’ll always be so sorry about this whole thing. For everything I said.”

You looked up at the him with eyes that would bring any man to his knees. “Dray.” You said softly, lips barely moving. Draco could hear his heart in his ears as he swallowed. “I forgive you, we’ve got this okay? And I’m sorry for slapping you, I assume we both have things to work on.”

Draco gave a toothy grin. “You’re my favorite.”

----

A/N I tried to tie one piece of the taylor swift’s song to this:)  i hope you enjoyed part two! Tbh I feel a little iffy about this one, but I appreciate everyone who asked me to do a part two and showed support and love! much love babes

[im-totally-not-an-alien]

Final Fantasy prompts no 52

1. Cloud getting swarmed by orphans who proceed to put make up on him, Tifa, and Yuffie.

When they are "revealed" to eachother, Cloud asks, "Am I pretty?" With a blank face and monotone voice.

2. Clouds reaction to different people saying, "I have a crush on you"

That exact phrase. No other wording or phrases.

3. #2 but its everyone in AVALANCHE saying this to Cloud one at a time, once a day.

Example: Yuffie on Tuesday, Tifa on Wednesday, Barret on Thursday, etc.

This is because they were trying a misguided attempt at making Vincent comfortable enough to actually confess.

When Vincent does confess, however, Cloud doesn't believe him. Oops.

4. Palmer was being a prick again. Ever since the "Incident" in the conference room when they discovered Sephiroths...relationship...with laser pointers, Palmer had been sneaking them in and teasing the poor man with them.

Scarlett had been the most recent victim, having the small red dot travel across her breasts without her knowledge. When she noticed the general staring at her cleavage, a whole host of questions flittered threw her mind, the most prominent being, "Am I about to get laid?"

By the time she noticed the dot it was too late. Catboy pounced.

Her last thought before she was squished by hard muscle and leather was "Oh, no."

Later, there was a mysterious surge in people writing fanfiction about Sephiroth pouncing on people...

5. Cloud chunking a ceramic vase full of catnip grass at Sephiroths head and yelling, "Happy birthday, asshole!"

6. Yuffie often observed how cat-like Cloud was, and just never questioned it.

Years later when Tifa says something about it, Yuffie was like, "You guys never noticed? He's always been like that."

Additionally, Vincent trailing his fingers through Clouds hair as the blond rests his head in the gunman lap. All was well and good until Cloud began purring in his sleep.

He wasn't sure what to do with this information.

7. Time traveler Cloud lands in the Shinra building and immediately gets spotted. He fights his way down with First Tsurugi until he's confronted by a familiar mop of spikey blond hair.

He has a blond moment of, "Oh, that's me. Oh- I'm shooting at myself. Lovely." He then proceeded to kidnap his younger self, much to Zacks dismay.

Now Cloud has Zack, Sephiroth, and two people he doesn't know hunting him like a wild animal.

It doesn't help that his past self is uncooperative

8. Zack as the hero instead of Cloud.

They made it to Midgar, but Cloud remained in a coma at 7th heaven. There was even a big rescue scene where he woke up and saved Marlene when the plate fell. Everyone thinks they're dead, but they find refuge with Elmira after AVALANCHE leaves Midgar.

Zack being referred to as "puppy" by Sephiroth in the same way Cloud is referred to as "puppet"

Also, Zack with green cat eyes

9. A group of scientists working under a mysterious organization managed to obtain samples of Clouds DNA, thus managing to revive the SOLDIER program.

But they made a mistake.

Cloud was made using large amounts of S and J-cells. Cells that mutated and changed him. He feels the new SOLDIERs as they change, as they are reborn. He feels them as they come alive with his cells, senses them like blinking lights on a sonar. The pull of REUNION has never been this strong before, but strangely, the blond didn't feel drawn anywhere.

When he first saw them he knew. He knew immediately what had happened and what the scientists had done, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was that he had babies and they needed him.

Needed their Mother

And so Gaia cries for another twisted hero

10. Someone from the Silver Elite writes romantic fanfiction of Sephiroth and Genesis and it starts a shipping war with people writing fanfiction about their favorite pairings.

A particularly...mature... piece of romantic high fantasy fanfiction involving himself and some blond named Cloud actually makes it to Sephiroth and he reads it.

He admittedly becomes curious of, "The pretty little fae" that has a solid hold on a significant amount of people in the Silver Elite.

Too bad the blond is avoiding him, like the plague and blushing as red as a beet the moment he sees him. He must have read something the fangirls made.

(Its funnier if you add time traveler AC Cloud but cuter if its CC Cloud. Idk which one I like better)

11. Angeal tries to teach CC Zack and Cloud how to build a bookshelf.

Cloud does pretty good, but Zack...actually, Angeal isn't sure what that is.

Zack called it art, so they were gonna go with that.

That's how they spent the rest of the evening, making wierd art that makes people stare in wonder and confusion.

12. Time travel shenanigans where Genesis's Jenova powers interfere with Clouds and now all the SOLDIERS that were in the Shinra tower with them when it happened have been turned into catboys.

It doesn't really change anything. It's still business as usual, just with a few extra appendages.

Angeal, who wasn't there at the time, has to muffle his laughter everytime he sees his friends.

It doesn't help that the company is pushing for Sephiroth to do a commercial showing off his new assets.

AC Cloud escaped and is on the run, but it's so much harder to blend in when you have cat ears on your head 24/7. Maybe he could wear a hat, but he wasn't sure what to do about the tail.

13. You remember that part in advent children where those monsters came out of the shadows that the remnants sent after Cloud?

Yeah, Cloud can do that. Not the, "summon eldrich monsters" thing, though he can probably do that too. I mean the "sinking into your own shadow to travel at high speeds/ through cracks in walls".

He finds this out by getting out of bed and falling into his shadow and slinking around like that until someone notices him.

He can't speak, so Barret and the others think the little shodow thing ate their blond friend or something.

Cloud is so frustrated and confused from being stuck in his shadow. Poor guy.

14. Gang leader Cloud x Mafia boss Sephiroth

15. Au where most things are the same, but Cloud and Sephiroth are both demons.

Sephiroth was raised in Shinra and frequently studies his dead race, believing he is the last of his kind and these books were all that were left of his people.

Then he found Cloud, who hated him on sight. As it turns out, Sephiroth is from the Cresent family. A clan of notoriously powerful and cruel demons with silver hair. What's worse is that the man was from the Strife clan, his family's enemy.

They had been at war for eons, with the Cresent family often becoming infatuated or obsessed with a Strife. They even had a phrase, which translated to, "Little song bird, you would look so pretty in a cage"

Needless to say the blond wanted nothing to do with him. So naturally, Sephiroth kidnapped him.

Demon Vincent is kind of there in the background, hiding himself like a smart person and watching over his blond friend and his deceased lover Lucricia's nephew. He allows most things, but ninjas his way in when he feels things are going too far.

[bleedinglovehes]

liam payne sucks tbh

This compilation is for my dear friend, who goaded me into making a comprehensive list of every time Liam Payne has been openly homophobic in the past ten years, with a couple of bonuses at the end! Because he has been. A lot. He’s displayed his privilege and offended LGBTQ+ people on multiple occasions and shows no signs of even attempting to educate himself or empathize with those his words have hurt. On that note, let us begin this journey.

Let’s start with the obvious, shall we? The infamous Duck Dynasty's Family Values tweet. Anyone who’s been in the One Direction fandom should be able to easily recall the incident, but I’ll break it down for you. On January 18th Liam tweeted about how he loved the “family values” on Duck Dynasty. By that time, it was know that the family was openly homophobic. Just one month prior, in December 2013, the families patriarch (Phil Robertson) was suspended from the show following homophobic remarks that received backlash. (He compared homosexuality to beastiality).Liam immediately received backlash for the tweet, for good reason, so later that day he took to twitter to claim that “Being a fan of someones show and the way they still hold a family together doesn't mean i am ok with all they say”. (https://twitter.com/LiamPayne/status/424679109634314240) That was his “apology”. Now, Liam’s association with the Robertson’s did not end there. 8 months later he posted a happy birthday message from Willie Robertson (Phil’s son) on his instagram. Though his interacting with the Robertsons had upset many LGBT+ people, Liam continued to openly support the family.The very next month he, and close friend Andy Samuels (pay attention to that name, we’ll reference it later) went shooting in Louisiana with the family. Andy and Willie Robertson’s sister in law both posted about the event at the time, but the posts have since been deleted.

Now if you were one of the delusional people still convinced of Liam’s membership in the LGBT+ community, you may find lot’s of faults in my logic. Him supporting a family sticking together doesn’t mean he shares their homophobic values, and you’re right, to an extent. But a queer person would not be so careless. Liam is displaying his privilege as a straight white man by ignoring the disgusting homophobia displayed by the patriarch, and likely shared by his sons and grandchildren. So, with that incident we have, at the very least, hopefully shown the audience Liam’s blatant ignorance when it comes to the LGBT community.

Let’s continue. 2014 was the start of a startling trend of tasteless comments Mr. I-Used-To-Be-In-1D-Now-I’m-Free has made in relation to the community. In August of 2015, Liam said that Girl Almighty (a One Direction song he wrote on) is about "trying to find that number one woman of your life” which would have been fine, except he went on to say that “none of [the fans] can relate to, because most of you are girls. Except for the boys in here, you know what I'm talking about." Almost immediately, his remarks were under fire for being too heteronormative, and he was accused of being homophobic. Instead of using the incident as a learning experience, Liam took to twitter to first clarify he is “in no way shape or form homophobic that's a ridicules thing to say and I'm not here to offend people so take it as you will”. Essentially, rather than apologize to every LGBT girl at the show, he decided to say since he’s not homophobic the comments weren’t offensive. He went on in another tweet and called the statement that deeply offended his non straight female fans “throwaway”. All I can gather from his little twitter tirade is that Liam was upset that his “throwaway” comment hurt LGBT people and that those people would not let it go. He finished by tweeting “crap end to a good day”, blaming the backlash rather than his own ignorant comment. All of the tweets are still on twitter and a quick search will bring them up for you.

2015 was a big year for Liam in terms of casual homophobia, and just one month after the Girl Almighty Incident, he was back at it again with… The Pride Flag Incident. Now, to provide some background, pride flags started making appearances at the shows in large numbers thanks to The Rainbow Project. The project was started to promote a safe space for LGBTQ+ fans. It garnered a lot of attention and the starters of the project clarified several times that it had nothing to do with the infamous “Larry” ship, which I will not discuss as frankly it’s not relevant to my main point. So a month before the Pride Flag Incident The Rainbow Project was getting attention from the media. Anyone who took two seconds to research the project and motivation behind it would know that it was only to support queer fans.

Okay but seriously, the Pride Flag Incident was a big deal. Let me explain. In the summer of 2015, gay marriage was legalized in the US. LGBTQ Americans were absolutely thrilled, for good reason, and pride flags were seen in abundance. So here’s what happened. Liam was interviewed by Attitude, a UK gay magazine. Now he started off alright, claiming that he found it, “funny that being gay is still something that’s talked about as though it’s not natural”. The use of the term “funny” is… troublesome for me, but that’s not the issue with the article. It’s his next statements that, once again, show his ignorance. He talked about there being an increase in rainbow flags at One Direction shows following the legalization of gay marriage. He made the correct point and he should've stopped there. Unfortunately, he continued, saying “I think that was mainly because people think of the Louis and Harry thing, which is absolutely nuts and drives me insane.” Once again he ignored the huge queer fanbase One Direction had amassed at that point and was subject to backlash. He, once again, took to twitter and, once again, stood by his ignorant comments rather than make a real apology. I won’t bring up Harry. I won’t bring up Harry. I won’t bring up Harry. I won’t bring up Harry… ok fine I have to. Harry actually waved a pride flag at the next concert they had. AKA, the one right after Liam’s comments were made public. Harry was, according to Liam, one of the people being disrespected by the pride flags.

I’m sensing a trend here. Liam makes an ignorant comment that offends people, Liam goes on twitter and stands by the ignorant comments, Liam claims people offended are in the wrong. Moving on, I'm honestly not sure what Liam did in 2016. I think that’s when Strip That Down was released. Anyways he only offended…. every one direction stan with that.

2017 though, that one was big. That’s when Liam made The Clothing Comments. So in May he was on the radio, probably promoting something, and was asked which members of One Direction he would let watch his child. He said that he’d pick Louis, because he’s a dad, and that neither Harry nor Niall made the cut. The issue? His reasoning behind why Harry wasn’t a suitable babysitter was that, “I couldn’t rely on Harry because I feel that my child would come out dressed in something that I just wouldn’t understand”. Yet. Another. Ignorant. Comment. Harry had, beginning in 2014 and continuing to 2020, been dressing in a non traditionally masculine way. 2014 had him sporting pussy bow blouses while 2020 has gifted us with a lace jumpsuit equipped with matching lace gloves. Now, therein lays the issue with his comment. Harry doesn’t dress in a traditionally masculine way. That was apparent in 2017. That’s what Liam had an issue with. Also, Liam has been making comments about Harry’s fashion sense on a semi consistent basis since that article dropped so… yea.

2018’s… incident… is almost funny to me because once again Liam display’s absolute ignorance when it comes to the LGBT community. It began with Liam taking place in Adidas’s Prouder campaign in June. It was sponsored by a bunch of celebrities and an article was released where each gave a quote about what makes them proud, obviously in relation to Pride. When Liam was asked the question he answered “I think since I’ve had a little boy, everything changes in life. ‘I’m aiming more for him to be prouder of me, and already he’s making me a better man, which I think is incredible.’” He did not reference the community he was supposedly supporting. He received immense backlash for his “straight pride” comments on twitter and gay news outlet Pink News.All in all it was just insensitive. He was dragged on twitter for not knowing the meaning of pride and the movement he was supporting.That’s not where the incident ended though. On July 7th London hosted the annual Pride Parade, that I’ve heard Liam promised to attend. I do not have receipts for this, so my next point may seem a little weak at first, but stay with me. Instead of attending the event, Liam attended a Dolce and Gabbana fashion show. Why might that be an issue? Well, since 2015, the fashion label has been called homophobic after two directors made insensitive comments about same sex parenting. So, if you don’t believe he promised to attend the show, the fact that he attended a show for a homophobic brand should upset you.In fact, Liam has shown no indication of distancing from the brand. In contrast, Harry has only been seen wearing Dolce and Gabbana once since the comments were made. (Performing on the Jimmy Kimmel show in Nov. 2015). Liam has worn D&G several times in the years since the comments were made.

2019 was a bad year for Liam, and not just because he took Zayn, Harry, and Niall’s number ones and slapped them together to debut at #111 on the Billboard Hot 100. In July he was paid by the Saudi Regime to perform in Saudi Arabia. The issue? In Saudi Arabia being gay is a crime and women’s rights activists are jailed. Nicki Minaj was also set to perform at the festival but backed out due to the Saudi Regime’s blatant homophobia and sexism. Once again he displayed his ignorance and privilege. He’s not queer, he’s not a woman. So he accepted the money and performed. Now I know he had fans there excited to see him, but he made the wrong choice. He should’ve backed out and not accepted any money from the Saudi Regime. July was just not a good month for Liam.So he was asked whether or not he planned to vote in the election. His response? “I think I will vote but I am always out of the country. We need a mobile app where we can vote with our thumbprint or something. I mean, in regards to Boris or Jeremy, I don’t think we give people enough time. Same with West Brom football club. They always change their manager every week it seems and we never get time to gel with anybody.” He’s just so ignorant. As a rich white straight man, the election had no effect on him. He seemed to indicate a preference for Boris Johnson, a racist sexist homophobe. December was by far his worst though. So his debut album, LP1, dropped at the beginning of the month. Immediately, Liam was attacked for his fetishization of bisexual woman, seen in the song “Both Ways”. It’s just disgusting, and made worse by his history with the LGBTQ community. A straight man singing about how hot it is that his girlfriend likes girls is just… so bad. That whole incident speaks for itself in my opinion. That brings us to the reappearance of his comments about Harry’s clothing. He claimed that “I couldn’t put myself in that. I’d look fucking… It’d look weird.” Now, has anyone seen what Liam has worn over the years? Liam’s issue is that the Met Gala look was feminine. He’s claimed to be the antichrist version of Harry, and you know what? I see it. He’s a straight man uncomfortable with men wearing feminine clothing and gay people in general. Harry is a queer man who thrives in feminine styled or women’s clothing. They really are opposites.

So what have I established? A pattern of ignorance that have hurt LGBT people on multiple occasions. Now, ignorance does not equate homophobia, so here’s how we know. Remember his friend Andy Samuels? Well he’s been openly homophobic (and sexist) on his social media. He’s been friends with Liam for over a decade. Remember when Harry made his iconic “not that important” comment? Liam’s reaction is… troublesome. He does a short laugh, and then glances off camera with an uncomfortable look on his face. Take from that what you will. There are UNCONFIRMED rumors of Liam using homophobic language backstage at One Direction concerts. Like with his reaction to Harry’s “not that important'' comment, there is no proof, but, based on his other actions, I am inclined to believe it happened. So there you have it. Liam’s history of ignorance. Homophobia is defined as a “dislike of or prejudice against homosexual people”. I think it’s safe to say that applies to Liam. He’s uncomfortable with feminine styled men, supports homophobes (The Duck Dynasty family, Dolce and Gabbana, Boris Johnson), and makes ignorant comments that are extremely offensive to LGBTQ people. He may not go around screaming slurs, but he is homophobic. He’s the type of homophobic person who claims not to be because he knows a gay person. Who claims the pattern of ignorance is simply the fault of the one getting offended. That’s who Liam Payne is. Look, you don’t have to agree that he’s homophobic, but you have to agree that he’s ignorant and refuses to get educated. And you have to admit that there is no way he’s LGBT. There is no way anyone could orchestrate a smear campaign that relied on so many casually ignorant statements and incidences.

This post was not my fault. Really. It’s wasn’t. It’s actually my friend’s fault. She told me that there were people on tumblr who actually believe Liam Payne is LGBTQ+. Shocking, I know. She also said that some people were comparing the experiences of Liam, a straight man, to Harry, his queer former bandmate. Which, no? And because I am so sure people will deny everything I have presented, a link to a google doc with links to each article and tweet I referenced has been included. https://docs.google.com/document/d/1i2lWQPr0oQeA_MYLdkmp6G19waj9KSYaQgcBek8O2OE/edit?usp=sharing

[majesticbrownjawn]

The Best Man

Things get complicated when the best man looks like him ⬆️ But probably not complicated in the way you’re thinking.

Oldie from Wattpad. ‼️Chris=Erik‼️ I ain’t feel like going thru and changing his name. Deal with it. I wrote it with Erik in mind though. Enjoy boos❤️

——————————

His hands unashamedly gripped her ass, making her jump in shock.

"We can't do this Chris..." her voice faded out in the most unconvincing way, letting him know she was enjoying the moment as much as he was. When he pressed his lips against hers, she kissed him back, forgetting where she was and focused on his tongue entering her mouth. Ms. Johnson was quickly brought back down to Earth when her phone started vibrating in her hand, reminding her it was almost time for the mother/son dance. Sanai was a stickler for things being on schedule and wanted everything to be perfect for Bryan's big day, which to her meant keeping to the strict time table she mapped out.

She finally broke away from the younger man, staring him down with a frustrated look before disappearing into the large crowd of people to find her pursuer's best friend and the groom--her son.

***

Sanai Johnson was a woman with a plan, well, at least since she had become a mother at the age of 16. She fell in love with her son's father, August, and she thought he felt the same until he disappeared six months into her pregnancy. He was from the other side of the tracks, the "right" side. His parents were wealthy and he had earned a scholarship to a prestigious university a few hours away. When he finally showed up fours years later begging for Sanai to take him back so they could be a family, it was way too little, too late. From the moment he stepped back into their lives, he proved to be a great father to Bryan, and that was all she wanted from him. He on the other hand, had just stopped confessing his love for her just over a year ago before their son's 25th birthday--when he showed up to Bryan's party with a woman who looked just a few years older than the birthday boy himself.

It was funny, after all these years of refusing him, Sanai was actually contemplating giving August another chance and then he shows up with with some young girl. Oh well, she thought. She had bigger fish to fry, like planning the wedding she never got to have. It's not that she couldn't have gotten married in the past or sometime in the future for that matter, she was still in her early 40s, but could easily pass for someone a decade younger. She'd loss count of all the times people mistook her for Bryan's sister. Her buxom figure, glowing skin and beautiful features added to her appeal, but she always fell just shy of being completely confident in her appearance.

Where she lacked confidence in the physical, she made up for it in business and street smarts. While August was doing God knows what those four years in college, she graduated from high school early and started working at a museum. Little did she know she'd fall in love with art history and would later become one of the most sought after and well paid art curators in the country. She got to where she was by working hard and staying focused, which for her didn't leave much room for romance.

The wedding weekend had finally come and the guests had started to arrive at her large estate. She planned a series of events designed to make the large 250 person guest list feel a little smaller. This first event, brunch, was purposely hosted at her home to make everyone feel a little more comfortable mingling and getting to know each other.

"Chris!" Bryan was ecstatic to see his best friend who was more like a big brother to him. He flew across the foyer and embraced Chris, who he hadn't seen in almost three years. The two met when Bryan was in the 7th grade and Chris was in the 10th grade at a basketball camp. Chris was Bryan's counselor and the youngster immediately took to the older boy, following him around and following his lead in almost anything he did, except when Chris moved to China. Ms. Johnson wasn't having that. Both men studied business at the same university and started learning Chinese in high school, continuing through college. After graduating, Chris decided to take a job in Beijing making just under seven figures at a budding tech start-up.

"It's been too long, man." Chris was just as excited to see his friend, but was always more reserved than him, being careful to save his energy for just the right time. He knew this weekend would be full of exciting and possibly emotionally draining moments, so he decided to ease his way in.

"So your mom got it like this now? No wonder she invited the wedding party to stay here. This place is massive." He looked around absolutely impressed with his surroundings.

"I know right? When's the last time you've seen her? Like right after I graduated?"

"Yea--high school, I think. Maybe when you moved into your dorm freshman year."

"Well, she's around here somewhere. I'm sure she'll be happy to see you. Let me show you where you'll be staying."

***

Sanai was the kind of woman who always had things under control, but her son's wedding had her out of sorts. She was so hell-bent on everything being perfect that she was stressing about every little detail. She did a self-check about 30 minutes ago, realizing her worries were affecting the time she was having, so she took a couple mimosas to the head to take the edge off.

After settling in, Chris made his way back downstairs and gave himself a tour of the home. Along the way, there was a woman who he couldn't stop looking at from afar as she weaved in and out of the crowd. The red dress she wore was what caught his eye first. Then as he closed in on her, her familiar smile pulled him in, making him wonder if he and Bryan went to college with her because she seemed to know a lot of people here. He approached her from behind, placing his hand on the small of her back and leaned into her, introducing himself.

"Hi, I'm Chris. Do I know you? You look so familiar." When she turned around and he finally got an up close look at her, he immediately knew who she was. "Ms. Johnson?"

She smiled and answered, "In the flesh." Instead of letting her go, he froze, still holding her close as she now faced him.

"Uh, uh--it's good to see you," he finally spoke up, his arm still holding her tight. "You haven't aged a day. You're so...beautiful," he blurted out. It was like he was seeing her for the time. In a way he was, this was his first time seeing her as a man.

"Thank you, Chris. It's good to see you too," she replied blandly, gently patting him on his chest, trying to release herself from his grip. Despite trying to get away from him, Sanai certainly noticed what a handsome man Chris had become. She was on the taller side for a woman, but he easily towered over her at 6'4". His frame was full, with just the right amount of grown man thickness she liked. The rest of brunch Sanai was slightly distracted by Chris, partly because she was so shocked at how much he'd grown up and also because she thought she caught him watching her. It was probably just her imagining things.

That night after dinner at the house with the bridal party, Sanai was cleaning up the living area when she felt a quiet presence enter the space.

"Can I help, Ms. Johnson?"

"Oh, please call me Sanai, you're grown now, Chris."

"Ok. So tell me Sanai, what's your secret?" She looked at him confused. "I meant what I said earlier. You haven't aged. It's incredible. You look incredible." He didn't try to hide the fact that his eyes couldn't stop taking her body in.

She blushed at his comment but tried her best not to act phased by his repeated mention of her looks.

"Well, you certainly have changed."

"I hope that's a good thing," he smirked. "How are you dealing with Bryan getting married? I assume it can't be easy to let go of your only child. And you're single, right? I'm sure you've thought about how lonely it may get, him not being around as much."

"Bryan has been on his own for a while now. I'll manage."

"How?"

"How what?"

"How will you manage, Ms. Johnson?" His tone seemed a bit suggestive, but she figured maybe it was the wine she drank playing tricks on her.

He was, of course being suggestive in the slightest way. His immediate attraction her earlier today threw him off initially, but that wasn't going to happen again this weekend. He decided everything else he'd say and hopefully do to her his weekend would be very deliberate.

"I mean, I'm sure you have needs, right?" He moved closer to her, so close that she had no choice but to look at him As his tilted his head sideways at her seductively.

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"I think you know exactly what I mean, Sanai." Chris' hand slowly traced up the side of her body, carefully following the curve of her hip upwards, stopping just below her bust. She watched his hand closely, allowing his touch to send a shiver up her spine.

"Your behavior is so inappropriate Chris." She said it so sternly that he momentarily forgot he was a grown ass man now who could pursue her without worrying about getting in 'trouble.'

He lifted his hands in surrender and openly watched her as she nervously cleaned up a few more things before heading upstairs. He noticed the way her breathing picked up when he touched her. The goosebumps on her arms told him she enjoyed his hands on her, despite her calling his actions "inappropriate." Chris laid in the bed that night, thinking about her and trying his best to ignore the nagging feeling of his dick hard-pressed against his shorts. The hornier and unsatisfied he was, he figured, the more persistent he'd be about getting a taste of Ms. Johnson.

***

The following afternoon, the bridal party gathered in the foyer of Sanai's home to learn the tango for the reception. After the instructor paired everyone up, Sanai noticed Chris was missing, but remembered he didn't have a partner because as the best man, it was his job to walk the grandmothers and her down the aisle.

"Looking for me?" She jumped at the sound of his voice.

"No, Chris. Why would I be?" She figured if she acted like she was uninterested in his attention that he'd leave her alone. She had another thing coming though. The more time Chris spent in her presence, the more his desire for her increased. Even if he wasn't able to see straight through her hard-to-get act, it wouldn't have stopped him from doing all he could to get her.

He bent down and bowed, lifting his hand to hers, "May I have this dance?" He grabbed her hand but she quickly yanked it away.

"Come on, don't be like that, Sanai."

"Maybe you should call me Ms. Johnson after all."

"I'll call you whatever you want. Just dance with me. Please." He was a little surprised when she took his hand and stood close to him. He took the lead, already familiar with the sensual dance. His hand rested low on her back and he used it to push her lower half into his. Front to front, Sanai could feel Chris' bulge brushing up against her as they moved across the foyer.

"You know I had a crush on you back in the day right?" He whispered closely to her face.

"Excuse me?" She cackled at his comment but he pulled her closer, feeling like she'd walk away from him at any second.

"Honestly, I wasn't even tryna be Bryan's friend at first when we were kids...I just needed an excuse to be around you," he continued. "You were just so creative and kind. I didn't know a mother could be so damn beautiful." Sanai blushed at his memory of her.

"I used to love to come over so I could see you walk around the house in those baggy t-shirts with no bra. Watching you in them little ass shorts had me on hard every time. I can't tell you how many times I had wet dreams about you, Ms. Johnson."

Sanai could feel Chris' excitement pressing up against her. Wisdom urged her to break away from him, but her body begged her to stay put. It had been so long since she allowed a man to be this close to her. And he just smelled and looked so good.

"Are you serious? Why are you telling me this now?" She shouldn't have asked, but her curiosity and her attraction to him was getting the best of her.

"Because it's the truth...and because I always fantasize about being close to you, just like this." The pair was face to face, their foreheads pressed against the other's. Lucky for them, no one would think anything of it because the tango called for that intimate positioning.

"You always fantasize? Or you used to?" She asked her question while looking him square in the eyes.

"Can I cut in?" Bryan's father looked at Chris suspiciously for a moment before taking Sanai's hand and trying to shake off the notion that his son's best friend was doing what it looked like he was doing—pushing up on Sanai. Their interaction would have looked innocent to the average person, but August recognized game when he saw it. He stayed close to Sanai the rest of the day just in case his suspicions about Chris were correct.

***

Hey, can you come downstairs for a minute please?

The text came in to Sanai's phone after 1 a.m. that night.

Who is this?

Guess 😈

I don't have time for games. Who is this?

It's Chris. I want to apologize.

Sanai made her way downstairs cautiously, as not to wake anyone in the house. When she laid eyes on him, she immediately knew she was in trouble. Chris wore a pair of silk pajama pants that left little for her to imagine about how girthy he was and the way his arms looked in the wife beater he wore was already doing things to her.

"He's Bryan's best friend..." She reminded herself as she approached him.

"Do you always talk to yourself?"

"Don't be cute, Chris."

"I hope I'm cute to you."

"I thought you want to apologize for your behavior?"

"Oh yea, I do." The pair was whispering trying not to wake anyone, especially Bryan. It would be hard to explain why they were down here whispering at this hour. Her home was large enough that no one would have heard them anyway, but that fact eluded them both in the moment. "Is there somewhere we can talk without having to whisper?" he asked.

She looked him over trying to decide if she could trust him being alone with her. He'd been so bold the last few days.

She decided she probably couldn't trust him, but still answered, "Sure, follow me."

***

So there are three, maybe four 🤔completed parts to this miniseries but the series itself isn’t completed. Hopefully posting this here will motivate me to finally finish it (it’s been like two years 🥴) I know y’all are waiting on Delicte part 4. Wrote on it some tonight and plan to have it up in the next week. Thanks for reading🖤

[smellysluna]

The one where Adrien dances with you

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Pairing: Adrien Agreste & [YOU]

Warnings/Tags: mostly swearing and PDA but very mild, fluff you’d say?

Summary: you meet Adrien at a gala hosted by the Vanilies in London, you confuse Adrien for Felix but your misunderstanding quickly turns into something else.

Note: I feel like the ending kinda sucks a lot but mblerghh i don’t want to wait to post this, enjoy babes!

Graham de Vanilie Group invites you to a Fundraising Holiday Gala. 7th of May 2020. Six o’clock in the Buckingham Palace. 

The last time the Graham de Vanilie Group hosted a fundraiser was a few years back, right before one of their CEOs passed away. You place the invitation card back in the envelope you received from Félix. You’re startled by the sudden invite and glance at your best friend.

“I suspect that the black envelopes were your choice?”

Félix nearly flinched. After all, he does his best at hiding feelings and intentions; he does fool most people but you always knew him better than the palm of your hand. So when the blond tried to suppress his astonishment, you almost smirked.

“You never fail to surprise me.” His voice is flat and deep but it quivers right at the end.

“You’re way too predictable.”

You place the open envelope onto your desk. When you turn around, you notice Félix’s leg go in an up-and-down motion. He was waiting for an answer, you knew, but he wasn’t going to ask for it. You step up to your walk-in closet and go through the dresses.

“It’s been a long time since I bought a gala dress,” you yell to Félix.

You didn’t hear how he walked into the closet. For whatever that means, you never notice when he sneaks up on you but you’re used to it by now. 

“Do you want to match, for old time’s sake?”

“That’s brilliant, Félix! Are you free this weekend?”

He falls silent for a moment, pursing his lips. “I could create an opening in my schedule on Saturday morning.”

“It’s settled then. Saturday at 9:30 we’ll get some breakfast and then—”

“I said I could, not that I would.” 

You stare at him with the utmost hateful look you could muster. “You fucking asshole.”

Turns out that Félix did clear up some plans to go shopping that weekend. As planned, you had chosen clothing that matched. When the day of the gala came, Félix told you to meet him at the venue because he had some responsibilities as one of the hosts. He had to receive guests and be there for his mother.

You arrive at Buckingham palace with your parents and as soon as you get in, the three of you are greeted by the remaining members of the Vanillies. You and your parents split ways. 

Félix looked as dashing as ever, his suit perfectly matched your long dress. He had his hair slicked back as usual but it seemed that he used a more than necessary quantity of gel. 

“What’s with your hair today, I can see myself in it.” You joked.

“Thank you, your hair isn’t any better,” he replies coldly.

You scoff, “tell that to my hairdresser.”

“I just might.”

“Sure you will, wanker.”

He glares disapprovingly and dismisses you. “Go bother the waiters. Maybe get something to drink while you’re at it. You’re tolerable when drunk.”

You just smile at him and let go of the bickering. “I better get started, then.” You leave Félix tending the rest of the guests.

“Hey,” he calls out, “I’ll find you later.” You nod at him and keep walking, swaying your hips in exaggeration just to annoy him.

The Buckingham’s ballroom wasn’t as spacious like the usual contracted venues by the Vanillie Group. It only seemed fair, though. Most of the guests already there were closer to their inner circle —comfortable enough to invite but just as brave.

The ballroom was clear enough to recognise the people you knew and had to greet for the sake of politeness. If you’re lucky there will be some entertainment. You move toward the clique the teenagers had unconsciously formed with a smile. 

After some boring interactions with the biggest snob —according to you and Félix— known as Vanessa you excuse yourself and ditch the posse to find Félix. You remark at yourself that the room had filled generously within an instant. Now you only wonder in which corner the tolerable snob had secluded himself to. While executing the quest, you straighten your posture out of habit.

The next thing, you see the back of a blond head. The posture and the shoulder build was right… Why was Félix’s hair suddenly not gelled back? You had to find out and on the way to wisdom you wondered whether his mother forced him to get rid of the excessive amount of gel he used. You grab his hand and turn him around. 

Not taking a good glance, you say unladylike —the way you always talk to him—, “what did you do to your hair?” You glance around and play with his hair, wondering how he managed to wash his hair in this place. “You were never planning on looking for me, weren’t you?” You glared at the blond.

You expected Félix’s stoic-stone-cold stare but instead you were met by a stupefied smile. There’s no doubt that it’s the same face but the expressions don’t match. At your approach the blond scratched his neck.

“I think you’ve mistaken me for my cousin,” he smiles and your face widens in shock. It feels like your heart just fell to the core of the Earth.

You let go of his hand and apologize frantically. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t notice you weren’t Félix.” You cover your face. “This is so embarrassing, I’m sorry.”

Félix’s cousin uncovers your face carefully but instead of looking at him, you keep your gaze on the floor’s carpet.

“Don’t worry —It’s not your fault! Everybody confuses us both.” He keeps silent for a moment. “Hey,” he tries to get you to look at him, “it’s okay —it really is.” Giving into his words, you glance up at him.

His stare and your stare cross. You take him in entirely. Even though he had the same face as someone you knew like the palm of your own hand, he felt like a different person. But he was a different person! Realising this, your heart ached in a way it had never done before. The air hitched at the back of your throat and neither the blond neither you said anything, you were both speechless.

He cleared his throat in what felt like a moment of paradise, the spell broke. 

The music in the ballroom becomes louder. “Would you like to share a dance with me?” He offers an open hand and a bright smile. 

With a twinkle in your eyes, you lay your hand in his. “I’d love to.”

He guided you closer to the musicians at the far end of the ballroom. At the center of the far end, on top of a podium connected to a pair of stairs, were the Queen’s and King’s thrones. Both seats were vacant but you knew that the Queen was somewhere nearby, you greeted her not long ago. 

At the far end walls were another pair of stairs connecting to each side of the wall; on the left was the string orchestra and on the right was the wind orchestra. You found yourself stranded in between.

The blond preserves his grip on your hand and faces you. In response, you put your arms around his shoulders.

You scoff, “even Félix holds me closer.”

At the comparison, the blond in front of you tensed. He pulled you closer out of sheer stubbornness.

Then most certainly, you’re reminded that he’s not Félix. The contact sent shivers down your spine. The feeling of him, so close, ricketed your heart. You were sucked into your own world where there was only him, the music and you. Too dumbfounded to notice anybody else, you begin to dance. Luckily, you had incorporated into a slow waltz. The both of you moved loosely without any missteps. 

An unseen force pulled you into his eyes, your will was to weak to pry you away from staring at him. Not once were you tempted to talk to him, you had everything you needed. His hand on your wait, your arm on his shoulder and a magic connection. 

A few steps later, your heart calmed down and only then you dared to speak. “I’m (Y/N), (Y/N) (L/N).” He squeezes your hand and you squeeze back.

“Name’s Adrien, Adrien Agreste.”

You bite your lip, scolding yourself for ruining your applied lipstick, as you both keep moving rhythmically to the orchestra. “Agreste..? I’ve never heard of you,” the spell your eyes shared had long broken so you move your eyes around the moving ballroom, “or seen you.”

You heard him chuckle and it was so precious you imprinted it to your memory. It was dumb, really, but you couldn’t help it. “You’re Félix’s friend,” he told you as a matter of fact but the short sad smile doesn’t go unnoticed. “I imagine he never said he had a cousin.” You wanted to reply first but nodded instead. 

“Why has he never talked about you?”

Adrien pulled you closer unconsciously but your heart rate spiked in an instant. “The short version of the story is that his mother’s twin is my mother but she married Gabriel Agreste and moved to France with him.”

You let the untold drama to sink in. You imagine what secrets these two families were keeping and you grin to yourself. Juicy rich people drama. 

Before replying to Adrien, you avoid biting your lip as to not ruin the professionally applied make-up. “That explains a little,” you guide Adrien into the pace increased music, “but I’d love to hear the full version.”

In your head, you created Adrien as somebody sweet and always polite, a soft person but when he takes the lead in your waltz… you realize he’s not as soft as you had pegged him for. 

“Maybe later, My Lady.”

The tempo gets stronger and faster and gracefully you keep following the rhythm. The room starts spinning and you only have a focus on the boy with the green eyes. The music is loud and it drums in your ears or maybe it was your heart beating so hard, you weren’t sure. You were having fun, and you keep the flow going without even skipping a beat. Your feet hurt from your heels but you couldn’t even feel the pain. The trumpets sang loud, the violins serenaded violently and your heart drifted ecstatically. The smile on your faces wouldn’t leave and you thought you were tiptoeing through the sky. Quite frankly, dancing with Adrien Agreste felt liberating. 

It wasn’t until the tempo slowed down that you were aware that you had broken a sweat. You recalled the times when you danced with Félix, not even a drop of sweat. He’d always push you to your limits but you kept up with him effortlessly. With Adrien it was different. You weren’t just shuffling your feet, you were dancing! Enjoying it! Feeling it! You had been dancing and not once your mind wandered somewhere else. You were dancing with Adrien Agreste and nothing else mattered. 

Sometime later, after catching the attention of many, you decide to go outside for a rest and cool down. You stopped at the palace’s entrance stairs. The guards on the bottom kept their position still. Nonetheless, you were a sweaty mess, you hoped your make-up hadn’t melted away but you were certain that the lipstick had faded away.

The both of you were engaged in a pleasant conversation and kept smiling at eachother. You were getting to know one another, you asked him about life in Paris, he asked you about life in London.

“I’ve been wondering,” Adrien pauses and looks around, “do you love Félix?" 

You furrow your brows in deep thought. You felt like answering with the truth but you just met him. Nevertheless, you wanted to tell him. So you do. 

To distract yourself from Adrien’s visage, you lean on the stairs’ rail. "I thought I did." 

A moment of silence passed by until Adrien asked what it is that you meant.

"It’s not like I’m confused or anything —I know I like him. It’s just,” you bite your bottom lip, trying to keep it in but it was too late, “there’s this other girl who’s in love with him too. And, honestly, Félix is better off with her.”

Adrien stands up from the stairs indignantly. “You can’t just… give up!” he says, desperately. 

You look at him surprised, for a moment, still not used to the expressive emotions on such a familiar face. 

“It’s not that I’ve given up. It’s that I’m okay with how Félix is. I’m okay with the small amounts of emotions that he shows. I’m okay with his cryptic behaviour. I wouldn’t change any of that —I couldn’t.”

You straighten your dress and stare at anything, just to keep your mind away from the aching in your heart. 

“But Bridgete… she can make a difference in Félix. She makes him a better person, even if it’s a little. She can make him grow and become the one he needs to be." 

You stare into Adrien’s glassy eyes, ready to give your heart the final blow. Adrien stares back at you and his heart churns.

"I’d just bring him down." 

Adrien didn’t realise he was clenching his jaw. He tries to loosen his grip on himself but he just couldn’t.

“I don’t know what to say.” Adrien sighs feeling identified to some extent and sits back down on the stairs. “I mean, I guess I understand you.”

You gaze at the back of Adrien’s head, you notice he relaxes his shoulders after you sit down next to him and it makes you smile slightly. He keeps his gaze on the ground.

“It’s just that I keep trying and trying and I get nowhere. We’ve gotten closer over time, yeah, but I’ve done zero progress.” 

You lean into him to give him some comfort and he places an arm around you in response. It felt so natural to the both of you —it was scary how close you felt. Who knew how intimate a dance could be.

“I feel so hopeless sometimes.” 

You lift your head up from his shoulder and stare into his eyes. His gaze was blankly set on the ground and his eyes were a shade darker outside. It’s funny how only now you notice those little details. Like the reflection of the lampposts’ light shining in his eyes. Like the way he kept clenching and unclenching his fist. Or the way he kept biting harder and harder on his bottom lip…

You can’t recall when Adrien faced you. Nonetheless, Adrien clearly noticed when you kept staring at his lips. He especially noticed your silent ragged breathing and your excessive lip licking…

You started leaning into Adrien. You could feel his hot breath. You were too scared to look into each other’s eyes and before your lips met, Adrien hesitated. The way he had made you feel tonight gave you the courage to just go for it. So you go in to kiss him. You felt confident and hopeful but Adrien stopped you. 

"I’m - I’m sorry. It’s just…” Adrien couldn’t get the right words. “I’m sorry." 

Your heart feels heavy in your chest. That night, you broke your own heart twice. The first time was about your discordance with Félix and the second time… by kissing a guy you just met. How ironic, you fell for the same face twice. 

You stand up abruptly. You really don’t want Adrien to see you red-eyed and puffy. You decide to flee from him and never see him ever again.

“I’m the one who should be sorry. We don’t know each other at all —it’s my fault.” You approach the entrance at the top of the staircase and before you get inside you tell him goodbye without a second glance.

He ponders for a moment. Figuring out what just happened. He thought a few seconds had passed before he ran after you.

“Shit! I’m stupid!”

He wondered how could you be so fast, you wore heels and a long dress. It seems that he had spent more than just a few seconds before he realised that you were his chance to become better. You might’ve not been Félix’s opportunity to become a better man but you sure as hell were Adrien’s. And it only took him one evening (and a few extra minutes) to figure that one out.

He figured you got back into the ballroom and he was right. Just as he was about to apologise to you and tell you how he actually felt after meeting you, he was met with Félix’s hostile glare. You were slouched between his arms and Félix held you tight, so tight he could see veins. Adrien paled in an instant, he darted glances between you and Félix without cease. 

Félix’s jaw was set in a tight knot. His cousin had hurt his best friend and he imagined what had happened. He knew his cousin’s heart was set for Ladybug. He even thought bitterly of her name. Such a boyish and stupid crush. He thought he couldn’t despise his cousin even more but there was Adrien, proving him wrong. 

He could imagine what happened, you always seemed to have a fancy for blonds. Ironically, Félix wondered how you could have fallen for his face but not for him (little did he know). It left a bitter taste on his tongue. While he intently stared at Adrien, he took you away from the ballroom —somewhere only he could get in. And before you left the ballroom altogether, you curiously glanced at where Félix had been looking when he tensed. That was the last time you saw Adrien Agreste in that ballroom.

When the event ended, you locked yourself in your room. Your parents barely noticed your distant behaviour; it happens when they constantly work. 

Sooner than later, the next week arrived and so did Félix. He knocked on your door and let himself in. You were in your pajamas, looking terrible. You haven’t combed your hair since the shower you took on Friday and haven’t brushed your teeth either.

“I have to say, you look worse than I thought you would.”

You glare at him with red and puffy eyes, “I haven’t stopped crying since Thursday, Félix. It’s pathetic… I’m pathetic!”

“Yeah, you are pathetic.”

You rub your eyes. “Yeah, thank you for your support.”

“You better. I’m the one who got you away from there.”

In the beginning you thought that he could brighten your mood but it seemed to be doing quite the contrary. Before he arrived, you managed to calm down and stop crying. Your efforts weren’t paying off because you were at the brink of tearing up again.

“Could you just… not say anything? At all?” You sigh. “I just need you to be here. By my side. Nothing else.”

Félix felt like saying something, actually comforting this time… but the defeated look on your face convinced him otherwise. He lay on your desk your favourite sweets, to which he received a smile from you, and sat down on the end of your bed.

“Fine, just get here,” he looks away, embarrassed, “and cry it out. You won’t be alone this time.”

You put your head on his lap and purse your lips. “I don’t feel like crying anymore.”

He looks into your eyes and groans, “you fucking wanker.” You just giggle at his pink cheeks.

Sometime later you were forced to go to Paris with Félix. Well, you weren’t really forced. Félix’s mother asked you to come and give support to her and her son. They were going to visit the man that stole her sister. Also because it was the day she had disappeared. 

You thought it wouldn’t do any harm to get out of your house, out of London and spend some time in the city of love. Maybe you’ll find a Parisian to get your mind off of the blond who’s been as of late haunting your dreams.

Turns out it was a bad idea. Paris was covered with Adrien’s face. It didn’t matter where you went: there he was, smiling with that stupid cute face and stupid smile. You thought you had gotten over him these past few weeks but all these pictures of him made you fall for Adrien Agreste all over again. 

You’d remember that intense dance you shared and that conversation in which you felt you could trust Adrien with your whole life. If you stared long enough at his picture, your heart would break too. Being in Paris was nothing like you thought it would be. It was so confusing. The scenery was amazing and beautiful but you barely enjoyed it. These feelings of discomfort and contempt were complicated. Sad you felt your heart being broken one too many times; happy you fell for the same guy all over again. You knew you had to get over him but the signs of the universe wouldn’t let you.

So instead of going back to England with the Vanilies, you decided to spend some time alone in this melancholic city.

It was weirdly filled with pigeons in the capital when you finally met the famous Ladybug and Chat Noir. 

It felt unreal to have Ladybug in front of you, talking in a language you don’t understand. You picked up a couple of words from Félix like idiot and stupid. He likes to mutter your idiocy in French.

"Sorry, I don’t speak French.”

Ladybug’s eyes widen, she doesn’t speak English. Even if you didn’t understand what she was yelling at her partner, she was impressive. Let’s face it, if it came to it, you’d be gay for her. As soon as that embarrassing thought crossed your mind, someone landed behind you. 

“You’re in luck, Ladybug, since it seems I’m fluent in English." 

You didn’t bother to look behind you, you were sure it was Chat Noir. Ladybug seemed to be a more impressive sight than anything, except for… that… that… that damn Agreste! You cursed internally, more worried of your internal battle than the one you were physically involved in. It seemed that Adrien Agreste wasn’t going to leave your mind anytime soon.

In a swing, Ladybug left you alone with Chat Noir, not before giving you a reassuring smile. 

Chat Noir cat walked in front of you, a smug smile adorning his face. When he saw your face, he tripped on his own feet and fell, wide-eyed. 

It was wrong to laugh at him, he could’ve been hurt, but you couldn’t help it. A hero trying to show off but failing? That’s hilarious. 

You dismissed Chat Noir’s incredulous look of embarrassment at a failed athletics check. In reality, he was freaking out. Even still, his heart bubbled at your laughter. It was just like the way you laughed with him in Buckingham Palace, the only difference was you weren’t in his arms. 

Your laughter died down when you noticed he wasn’t standing up. With tears in your eyes, you offer your hand to help him up. "I apologise for laughing, I haven’t had a good laugh in a long time." 

He took your hand in his and didn’t want to let go when he got to his feet. He had to let go. 

"Don’t worry about it.” He knew he was taking too long on following the instructions Ladybug gave him. His baton was ringing, Ladybug was calling. He didn’t pick up even though he knew he should do what’s right for Paris’ safety. Do what’s right for the people —not him. It hurt internally to let you go again. “Look, I have to get back to the battle, so I’m gonna take you somewhere safe. Please, be careful.”

Chat Noir finished the battle as soon as possible, skipped his usual fistbump with Ladybug and got back to you. But when he returned to the spot he left you, you weren’t there anymore. 

His heart sank into his stomach. 

Until now, it hadn’t occurred to him why you were here. Why were you even in Paris? By any chance, were you looking for him? He doubted that. Why would you look for him? If anything, he should be looking for you!

The pit in Chat Noir’s stomach grew heavier, his heart beat so loud he hardly heard his own thoughts. What was he even feeling? The only thing that felt right was you. You in his arms, laughing at those possé’d jerks. Shit! He must find you.

The only thing he could think of being of use was Félix. He’d ask for your number and call you and—. No, it would be dumb. Félix wouldn’t even give Adrien your number. Especially not after that look he received in the palace. He could still try… He’d beg for it if he had to.

“Ugh, how do I even ask him?” 

Chat Noir pondered various outcomes —none of them seemed to go well— all the way to his house. In a matter of seconds, Adrien freed himself from the suit and stared at Félix’s contact number.

“What are you doing?” 

“Something I should’ve done a long time ago, Plagg.”

“You don’t seem to be doing anything.”

Plagg caught on his bullshit. Thing is, Adrien was too scared to push the call button. He hasn’t even thought of a proper way of asking your number or even greeting Félix. So lost in thought… 

“I guess you found out, hah?” Félix answered. 

It seems that Plagg accidentally pressed the call button. Adrien was at a loss for words. He still doesn’t know what to tell Félix.

“Hello? Can you even hear me?” Apparently, Adrien took too long to think of something to say.

“I — uh — yeah.”

“‘Yeah’, what? That you found out or that you can hear me?”

“Both.”

“Fine, what do you need?” Félix inquired, clearly annoyed.

“Phone.”

“Phone?”

“Number.”

“Number?”

“Her phone number.”

“Her phone number?”

“Yeah, her phone number.”

“Her phone number.”

“Right.”

Silence.

“Okay, I’m hanging up now.”

Adrien paced even faster around his room.

“Wait! No! I need you to give me her phone number.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I asked.”

“Right. You’re not getting it.”

“Because I like her.”

“You like her.”

“Yeah.”

“You son of a—. You made her cry!”

“I went after her!”

“You were too late!”

“Please.”

The line suddenly died. Félix hung up. Adrien was sure this was the only way so he readied himself to call again but he was interrupted by a message.

Félix

Contact: thy dumbass

Félix

if she comes back more broken than when she left i will kill you

Félix didn’t want to let you go, he didn’t want you to be with Adrien. Yet, he had to give you a chance to be happy and maybe, he’d hope, his cousin fucked up. Maybe you could give him a chance but it seems that he waited way too long.

Now that Adrien had your phone number he didn’t know what to do with it. He could call you… and then what? He could send you a text, explaining himself. Yeah, that seemed right. It was the longest text message he has ever written. He reread it nine times before erasing all of it before he could hit send. 

Maybe he isn’t worthy of you. After all, he should’ve been the one that found you instead of the other way around. He should’ve gone after you.

It was true that he couldn’t stop thinking about you, he couldn’t keep you a secret so he talked to the person he trusts with his life. Ladybug had been understanding, she even talked about her own love life. She had never been willing to talk about it. The team had reached a milestone in trust. Whenever they had doubts, they’d talk to each other and point out things that the other didn’t realise. However, Ladybug had been most successful, she listened to Chat Noir’s suggestions whereas Chat didn’t follow through. Maybe this one time he will.

“I think you need to tell her to meet somewhere. Have some tea or something. Isn’t that what british people do the most?”

“This is so embarrassing, Ladybug. What do I tell her? ‘Hey, let’s meet and have tea!’ That’s so dull.”

“You say exactly that!”

“What? No way.”

“If I were right there I’d take your phone and text her myself. Now don’t be a chicken, I’m getting tired of you weeping.”

Adrien squeaks when he sends that simple message to an empty chat waiting to be filled. 

“Did she answer!?”

“No! I just sent the message! How—Oh, God! She replied!”

“What did she say!?”

“‘Who is this?’ uh.”

“Chat, you idiot! Tell her it’s you!”

“Fuck, I’m scared.”

“Come on!”

“Okay, okay, I said it. She read it — she’s not replying. Wait, wait, she’s typing!” Adrien gripped his phone so tight his knuckles were white. “She said ‘okay’.”

“Go on, then! Tell her when you can meet and where! I’m hanging up now, I’m actually with some friends. Good luck, Chat.”

“Thanks Bugaboo.”

As soon as he hung up he texted you when you were free.

(Y/N): whenever, really, all I’ve been doing is wandering around 

Adrien: do you have time now? I’m free until my fencing class

(Y/N): uh, yeah, where do you want to meet? Don’t make it complicated I don’t know this place much

Adrien: where are you now?

(Y/N): at a cafe by the eiffel tower, but I’d like to rest at the hotel first, my feet hurt

Adrien: Le Grand Paris?

(Y/N): yep

Adrien: I’ll pick you up after my fencing class, should give you enough time to rest

(Y/N): ok

Adrien: looking forward to see you again

The texting ends there. Adrien can’t wait to get to fencing class and get over it. You, on the other hand, pay for your tea and race to the hotel. What did that heart mean..? You were dying to get to your hotel room and take a long hot shower, you were basically crawling up the walls of the elevator. 

A few hours later you get a message from Adrien that he’s on his way. Honestly, you were ready an hour ago, you had never been so nervous to meet someone. You slowly made your way down to the entrance. You were going to make him wait but the moment you step outside you see a car pulling up.

Adrien: I’m here

He steps outside and spots you immediately. Fuck, you looked beautiful. He walked up to you even though he wanted to run and spin you around in his arms and kiss you all over. 

It was awkward seeing one another after everything but when you both caved for a hug. It felt so right. Your hearts pounded. His hair was still slightly wet, probably from the shower he just took. He smelled like citrus too. 

Adrien broke the hug and stared deep in your eyes and before he could stop it, he was leaning in for a kiss. Lips barely touching, he hesitates but you close the gap. It was much better than the hug. His lips were soft and plump. It wasn’t your best kiss but the feelings you got from him were amazing. Together, you could teach him to kiss the way you want to him which means he’s gonna have to practice a lot of kisses with you.

“Sorry it took this long.”

“The wait was worth it.” 

He smiles at you and you kiss again.

[darkarfs]

the worst movie tie-ins in the history of wrestling

Wrestling is stupid, and will show its ass at the mere mention of cross-promotion, especially when it comes to movies, which is it's cooler older brother that can get away with a lot more. Hell, the 2nd ever SummerSlam's main event, in 1989, was Hulk Hogan facing the main villain, Tiny Lister as Zeus (RIP), from the film they were both in, No Holds Barred. So wrestling's always wanted a piece of that. So... - Army of the Dead Let's just get this one out of the way. Here's the thing; I thought the WrestleMania Backlash's card was fucking perfect...except for this weird business. WMB MIGHT've been the best show of the pandemic (hot take) were it not for making sure we sell Big Dave's big zombie heist movie. If they had just kept some of the guys in zombie makeup on the Thunderdome's webcam footage, that would have been borderline charming. But instead, the Miz (who was WWE champion 3 months ago, don't forget) and Damien Priest (who they're making WWE's pop-culture liaison so far on the main roster, for some reason) had to sell for zombies in a lumberjack match. If this was the first ever wrestling show you watched with a loved one who had never watched wrestling or hadn't since like, the end of the Attitude Era, would you for a second want them to stick around after Miz and Morrison get, for all intents and purposes, kayfabe killed and eaten, and then watch Damien Priest shoot the logo at the ceiling? My money's on "no." - Shaft Speaking of the Attitude Era, anytime someone tells you that wrestling was cooler in that 3-year time frame, point them to the June 15th of 2000 episode of SmackDown, where a storyline that ran throughout the show followed Patterson and Briscoe through New York City to find Crash Holly and his Hardcore Title. Now, I admit parts of this are kinda funny, like Briscoe just wanting to give up and find a "gen-yoo-WINE New York hot dawg!" That's fun! And who does Crash Holly run into but none other than Shaft, and his woman, the only one who understands this complicated man, John Shaft. So, we have real Samuel L. Jackson, playing fake John Shaft, talking to real/fictional Crash Holly, and man is it weird. Anyway, Shaft agrees to be Crash's bodyguard for the night, and he slaps around Patterson and Briscoe in a nightclub. After all, what better way to get across how cool and badass a character is than having him knock around the fucking Stooges? - The Wrestler Well, this is complicated. The Wrestler, starring ancient wooden lion Mickey Rourke, is a somber tale about an industry that, in its heyday, left people physically spent, washed-up and addicted to adrenaline at best, and dead at worst. It famously moved Roddy Piper to tears because he recognized what destruction and brokenness the industry once left in its wake. Which is why it's super-weird that WWE jumped at the chance to promote maybe the bleakest possible look at their world in 2009, and did so by having Chris Jericho smack the shit out of three old wrestlers at WrestleMania 25, including Roddy Piper. And then have Rourke jump into the ring, wearing his "do you want to take peyote in the desert?" starter kit and bring out his amateur boxing chops. Tonally, it's just really bleak. Like if the creator of Super Size Me screened the premiere at the world's biggest McDonald's. - Bride of Chucky Poor Rick Steiner. You didn't deserve this. You're the sane Steiner. They shouldn't have made you talk to the puppet. So, WCW was heading into Halloween Havoc 1998, and after years of stomping all over the WWF in the ratings, the wheels had come off, and dramatically. Like, all at once. Like the car in the Blues Brothers. To boost PPV buys, they spent a fortune bringing in the Ultimate Warrior to rekindle a feud with Hulk Hogan, mostly by hiding in his fucking mirror. And the Steiner Brothers, one of the best teams of the early 90s, had been feuding with one another since Scott turned on his at SuperBrawl. What was the best way to build hype around this match at Halloween Havoc? Why, to have Rick get into a war of words - and lose - to Chucky. Yes.

Serial killer doll voiced by Brad Dourif, and it's so sad. Chucky cusses Rick out while Rick challenges the fucking doll to a fight, which is promptly ignored (Chucky's video segment is pre-recorded, and you can tell because he starts talking about 3 times in 3 minutes while Rick's mid-promo and missing his cues to stop) and then is made fun of. And all the while, people were probably wondering "what's going on on Vince's show?" and the answer is...that was the episode of Raw where Austin fills Vince's Corvette with cement, which is slightly more badass than being teased by a puppet. - The Goods Here's the thing: Raw is, right now, a bad show. It is bad TV. It's been bad for a while now. And as bad as it is right now, it's still not as fuck-awful as it was in 2009, aka the Age of the Guest Hosts (which, in kayfabe, was given to us by Donald J. Trump, so blame that ambulatory Nazi scrotum for one more thing, he's certainly earned it). For those of you fortunate enough to not be watching what was objectively unwatchable at the time - and hell, I sure as shit wasn't checking in very often - from mid-2009 to around mid-2010, a celebrity would be the special guest host of Monday Night Raw, often to promote a TV show or movie, and it was nearly all horribly-written, cheesy wank. Imagine if every week was the week of the zombie attack at Backlash. That's what it was like. Bob Barker was funny. The Muppets were good. And THAT'S the end of the list. MacGruber coming out to blow up R-Truth made me want to fall on a knife. The A-Team coming out to beat up Virgil was fucking awful. Go straight to fucking HELL, the Three Stooges, Dennis Miller, the reverend Al Sharpton, the 2010 Pittsburgh Steelers, Don Johnson and Jon Heder, the poor entire cast of Hot Tub Time Machine...and then there's Piven. Jeremy Piven. He showed up with Ken Jeong to promote a movie no one remembers...called the Goods. He stunk up several segments, infamously called SummerSlam "the Summer Fest" and then got roughed up by John Cena. Wrestling's the worst. Stop watching. And many did. For a looooooong time. - Robocop 2 This one's infamous, so I'll keep it brief. Robocop 2 came out in 1990, and goddamn, I don't know how much money the producers threw at WCW, but it was enough for them to rebrand an entire PPV "Capitol Combat: the Return of Robocop" and marketed the entire thing around the fancy metallic gentleman. The branding really made it seem like Robert Cop was old friends with the promotion, and indeed, old friends with Sting. Makes sense; two big, heroic idiots running on BASIC. He had been feuding with the Four Horsemen, who locked him in a cage at ringside. Out comes Robocop, called completely straight by Jim Ross, who rips the cage door off his hinges, and then leaves. An accumulated 85 seconds of screen time. Totally worth being the centerpiece of this PPV! But a little context as to why WCW fans hated it so much: 1989, the year before, was regarded by WCW fans as one of the best in company history. The era that gave us stuff like Chi-Town Rumble and the still-very-much-lauded peak of the Steamboat/Flair feud. To go from that to Robocop was seen as a bit of a slap in the face, because WCW was always seen as the more traditional "wrasslin'" company and was never into cheesy pop-culture crossovers, which is why the last one...is all the funnier.

- Ready To Rumble First of all, those dumbasses at Turner had to give Michael Buffer - who they still had on retainer - around $350,000 just to use that title, because he owns the trademark to that phrase. Strike 127 million, capitalism, that a guy gets to own a phrase and gets paid an obscene amount when he or anyone else uses it. Secondly, I initially wasn't going to do movies where the promotion itself is producing the movie, or oh holy HELL would See No Evil and the infamous May 19 shit be on here. But unlike See No Evil, this had a hand in killing a decades-old wrestling promotion, so it feels weird to not include it. On April 7th, 2000, bad movie Ready To Rumble was released, a film about two hapless dorks trying to help Oilver Platt, aka the lawyer from the West Wing, become WCW World Heavyweight Champion. Two weeks later, to promote the movie, they made David Arquette, the lead actor in the movie, the WCW World Heavyweight Champion. He pinned Eric Bischoff, who wasn't the champion, of course, in a match where he was teamed with Diamond Dallas Page, his best pal and the company's top babyface at the time, but who is also one of the villains in the film to make it extra confusing for the mainstream casual audience the movie was made to attract. And, to be fair, Arquette didn't want to do it, NO ONE really wanted to do it, and it tanked viewership for WCW once and for all. At the very least, David took his payday from the wrestling appearances and the film and gave it to the families of Owen Hart, Brian Pillman and to Darren Drozdov, who had been paralyzed from the neck down in a wrestling match the previous year.

[kpopfanfictrash]

The Monogamy Monologues (Preview)

Status: Currently writing

Posting Date: February 7th (tentative)

Creative Contributor: @underthejoon​ for this lovely banner!

Genre: Rom-Com / Humor / Smut

Pairing: Jungkook / Reader

Synopsis: The year? Some point after college. The occasion? Namjoon is getting married and the Rich Man’s Crochet Club has convened once again. Somewhere between the drinks and the laughter, everyone has the same realization: Jungkook has never been in a serious relationship. In the name of all that is holy (Overwatch and booze), the club’s mission is revived. Now though, their goal is much more perilous. Now, they aim to find Jeon Jungkook a girlfriend. (Part of The Rich Man’s Crochet Club series)

Estimated WC: 40K

Rating: 18+

Preview: 2,088

“JIMIN!”

“JEON!” Waving wildly, Jimin flags Jungkook down as he steps off the escalator.

There are still several people between them, but none of them prove to be a match for Jungkook. Dodging them easily – spinning, at one point around a family of five – Jungkook dramatically runs towards the exit.

“JIMIN-SSI!” he yells. “I’M COMING!”

Jimin rolls his eyes at the display. “Get your ass over here, Jeon! Sorry,” he apologizes to the same family of five.

Although the mother shoots them both a dirty look, she hurries her kids towards the Taxi stand and does not look back. Jimin opens his arms just as Jungkook crashes into his chest.

Lowering his cheek to Jimin’s hair, Jungkook closes his eyes to whisper, “I think you got shorter.”

“Fuck off,” Jimin grunts, shoving him away before laughing.

Jungkook grins. “Anyways,” he says, slinging an arm about Jimin’s neck. “Are you ready for the best weekend of our lives?”

With a good-natured shake of his head, Jimin leads Jungkook out of the terminal. Always the excellent host, Jimin actually parked his car at the airport and walked inside to greet him. Jungkook cannot remember the last time his family did that for him, let alone a friend.

“Ready to assist Namjoon, you mean?” Jimin gives Jungkook a look. “You know – on his wedding day?”

“Yeah, yeah. That.” The moment they step outside, Jungkook takes a deep breath. “Ahh,” he groans, slowly exhaling. “You smell that, Jimin?”

“Car exhaust?”

“No. Lack of humidity.”

Jimin snorts, striding forward when the crosswalk turns green. “Still not sold on Miami?”

Jungkook opens one eye. “Miami’s fine,” he says automatically, following Jimin as they enter the garage.

Over his shoulder, the garment bag keeps banging his ass. As much as Jungkook hoped this would keep his suit from wrinkling, it is looking more and more like he will need an iron.

Not believing a word Jungkook says, Jimin raises a brow. “If you say so.”

As they reach the next aisle, Jungkook takes in deep gulps of air. Jimin shakes his head at his antics, but Jungkook could not care less. This city always smells like home to him. When they reach Jimin’s car, though – a sensible, gray Subaru – Jungkook’s feet falter.

“What happened to Liz?” he blurts, taken aback by the trade.

Liz was their college nickname for Jimin’s car, stemming from the infamous Liz Lemon of 30 Rock. So dubbed because Jimin’s old car was a complete piece of crap – a lemon, from the time he drove it off the lot.

Jimin pauses, flipping the keys in one hand. “Traded it in,” he says stiffly, pulling open the door. “Too many memories.”

Realizing what Jimin means, Jungkook winces. He had nearly forgotten about the break-up. Granted, it has been almost four months since Jimin and Olivia called it quits, but the two had been dating since college. Slightly longer than Namjoon and his fiancée.

Whereas Namjoon and his fiancée grew closer after University though, Jimin and Olivia were the opposite. Jimin graduated summa cum laude with an acceptance to one of the top medical schools in the country. His painful notetaking really paid off, as Namjoon was wont to say. When he moved to Chicago and began med school in earnest, Olivia left for New York to join a consulting company.

With their busy schedules and early twenties lives, the two drifted apart. Jimin was the one who held on, not wanting to end things with the first girl he loved. It was only when he surprised Olivia in New York over Valentine’s Day he realized it was over. Not that Olivia was cheating on him, or anything – maybe it would have been easier if she were. At least then, there would be somebody to blame.

No, Jimin merely realized they did not fit anymore. Olivia had her friends and interests; he had his and the two no longer meshed. Without realizing it, they had both reached a fork in the woods and turned down different paths.

Ever since their break-up, the chat has been wary of even mentioning her name.

Jungkook glances hesitantly at his profile. “You okay, man?” he asks as they enter the car. Tossing his duffle bag over the backseat, he prays it does not land on his suit.

“Okay?” Jimin places the car in reverse. “Could be better, I guess. Could be worse.”

Jungkook nods as they pull from the spot. Slouched in his seat, he stares out the window because in times like this, he is useless. When it comes to matters of the heart, Jungkook considers himself to be woefully inept.

“Sorry man,” he says quietly. A car honks in response as they get on the highway. “Wish I could say we always hated her, but you know that’s not true.”

Jimin snorts from the driver’s seat. “Yeah, I know. I can’t really bring myself to say that, either.”

“Well, maybe you two will –”

“No. We won’t.”

Seeing Jimin’s face, Jungkook shrugs and resumes looking out the window.

After a minute, Jimin exhales. “So, how’s Miami really going?”

Jungkook’s head whips sideways to face him.

The corner of Jimin’s mouth lifts. “Thought you hid it well, huh?”

“Better than five minutes into the car ride, yeah.”

“Well, you don’t.”

Jungkook snorts. “Miami is… fine. I don’t know. It’s not really Miami I have a problem with.”

“Your job, then?”

“Yeah, and… I don’t know. Everything.”

“Be a little more vague.”

Jungkook’s lips twitch. “I just…” He pauses, collecting his thoughts. “It was so much simpler in college, you know? Things were difficult, but it all had an end date. Right? Get through four years, and you’re done. I’m starting to realize… this doesn’t have an end date.”

Jimin’s lips purse at the road. “The end date is whenever you want it to be, JK.”

“I guess,” Jungkook grumbles, slouching lower in the seat. Any further, and he might slip off the edge. “But then I’d have to admit that I failed. That I spent eight fucking years of my life either in this job, or working towards it. What was the point if I quit?”

“What’s the point of spending another eight years doing something you hate?”

Jungkook stubbornly chews the inside of his cheek, knowing Jimin is right. The problem is, though – even if he quits, Jungkook has no idea what to do. Sure, he likes photography, but the field is competitive as hell. Jungkook wants to do something he loves, but he also wants to succeed. Taking such a massive leap terrifies him.

“Let’s talk about something else,” he mumbles, turning to Jimin.

Although Jimin arches a brow, he reluctantly lets the subject go. “Sure. Let’s talk instead about how Seokjin is bringing a date to the wedding.”

“Seokjin?” Jungkook’s brows shoot so far up, they near-disappear. “Who?”

“Some girl from LA.”

“No shit,” Jungkook exhales, slowly shaking his head. “Wow. We’re all settling down, huh? Soon, it’ll just be you and me, Jimin,” he grins, leaning over to punch Jimin in the arm.

The wheel jerks at the action, swerving them towards the next lane. “Hey!” Jimin blurts, straightening them out with a scowl. “At least I dated someone during the past five years, Jeon. Who’ve you been seeing?”

“No comment.”

“Huh. I don’t remember her. Was she the blonde?”

“Shut up,” Jungkook laughs, reaching out for the stereo. As the latest pop song fills the car, he pointedly stares out the window.

Jimin smiles, shaking his head. Namjoon’s wedding is being held in the city. His fiancée’s father is some big shot at a downtown law firm. From what Jungkook has gathered, the ceremony spiraled from a small, romantic affair into one of the biggest events of the season.

Jungkook’s lip quirks. That is how you know Namjoon’s fiancée’s family is rich. They use phrases like event of the season and christen their yachts with only the most expensive champagne. Having been to several yacht-christenings in Miami, Jungkook has never understood the event. What is the point of buying something expensive, only to ruin it?

Actually, maybe that is the point.

Pushing Miami from mind, Jungkook stares at the highway as they drive towards the city. The wedding has taken on a mind of its own, according to Namjoon. So detailed, so elaborate, they were forced to hire a wedding planner. Jungkook can only imagine Namjoon, micro-manager to the extreme, being forced to trust someone else with his life.

It has been a while since Jungkook last visited Chicago. Namjoon’s family is from here, and whenever they visited in college, they always had a great time. His mom sent them off each morning with fresh fruit and eggs – it was sweet; reminded Jungkook of home.

The familiar skyline arching above brings a smile to his lips. All in all, Jimin and Hoseok do not realize how lucky they are. If Jungkook lived here, he would – cutting the thought off, Jungkook sits up in his seat. Jungkook does not live here, so there is no point pretending.

Glancing down at his phone, Jungkook feels a modicum of guilt. After placing himself in airplane mode, he has not turned the device back on since he landed. Jungkook knows there will be a fresh wave of texts from his boss and for now, wishes to delay the inevitable.

“Where’s the wedding again?” Jungkook asks, turning his head.

Jimin shrugs as he rolls down his window. The night wind ruffles his hair, sending strands flying all over the place. “Some hotel by the river. Hear it has a great view.”

“And what’s the plan for the weekend?”

“Jungkook!” Jimin scolds, turning down the radio. “Did you even read the agenda Seokjin sent?”

Jungkook glances at him guiltily. “Um, I looked at it.”

Seokjin’s is Namjoon’s best man for the wedding. It makes sense – the two of them have been roommates since sophomore year of college, not to mention they both live in LA. Jungkook knows Jimin has also helped Namjoon with wedding details, since he lives in Chicago.

The look Jimin gives says he knows Jungkook is full of bullshit. “There’s a copy of the itinerary in my glove compartment,” he says with a nod. “I printed out a few just in case.”

“Why the fuck,” Jungkook grumbles as he opens the clasp. “Alright, here we go. Wednesday.”

“That’s today,” Jimin prompts.

“I know what day it is.” Jungkook clears his throat. “Alright, Wednesday. Bridesmaids and groomsmen arrive.”

“That’s us,” Jimin adds, shooting Jungkook a look.

“Yep, yep. Thursday – booze cruise. Woo! Seriously?”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “You really didn’t read this, did you?”

Ignoring him, Jungkook continues. “Friday – rehearsal ceremony and dinner. Be at the church by 4:00 PM.”

“Dressed.”

“Doesn’t seem like a necessary clarification,” Jungkook says, flipping over the paper. “Saturday, ceremony starts at 2:00 PM. Photos and reception following. Sunday, brunch.”

Jimin nods. “Don’t be late.”

“Jimin.” Jungkook lowers the sheet. “It’s Wednesday. How can you seriously tell me not to be late to brunch on Sunday?”

“Because I know you.”

“Touché.” Jungkook grins, crumpling the paper despite Jimin’s groans.

There are not many people heading into the city on a Wednesday night – turning on his blinker, Jimin switches lanes to pull off on an exit. As they slow, the buildings around them seem to stretch towards the night sky. Craning his head out the window, Jungkook exhales. When he pulls back, he finds Jimin watching.

“What?” Jungkook asks, somewhat defensive.

Jimin’s upper lip curls. “Nothing. You know, Hoseok and I’s roommate leaves at the end of the month. If you ever wanted to come to Chicago…”

Jungkook glances away. “C’mon, man. I can’t quit my job.”

“Can’t… won’t…” Jimin trails off at Jungkook’s expression in the mirror. “Anyways, the offer stands. Think about it, okay?”

Slowly, Jungkook nods. “Alright, I’ll think about.”

Jimin smiles, appeased and returns to the road. His hands stay firmly at the ten and two ‘o’clock position, which is so Jimin, it makes Jungkook smile. As they wind through the streets, Jungkook cannot help but think about what it would be like to live here.

He would probably be miserable if he simply transferred to Chicago. Maybe a little less so, since Hoseok and Jimin would be here – but nothing would really change in the long run. If he quit his job, though. Jungkook sighs. For now, that type of change remains firmly in the abstract.

“There!” Jimin squints at the building ahead. “That’s the hotel.”

[ TO BE CONTINUED ] 

© kpopfanfictrash, 2020. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[julemmaes]

Little Bird - October 7th

Elain Archeron x Lucien Vanserra

A/N: This was requested by @queenamydien on Ao3, “Just elucien as a couple and mated or on their way to becoming mates. I am so looking forward to this multifandom.”

I KNOW I’M SUPER DUPER LATE, but I’m kinda not home all the time cause I’m at my granpas’ house and I’m trying to spend most of my time with them, so yeah. I’m trying to do my best here and even if I’m not writing as much as I usually do, I hope you like these little thingies I give you.

Also, NOT ME WRITING NESSIAN INSTEAD OF NESTA EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.

Word Count: 1,339

Elain took off her gloves sighing, admiring with a satisfied smile the work of months of gardening. A sudden movement caught her attention and her head snapped to the right, where she saw three butterflies fluttering together and resting on her lilies. Her expression softened and her smile wavered. She missed her sisters so much.

It had been four years since the war against Hybern, Feyre was doing a great job working alongside the High Lord of the Night Court and Nesta had found her place in one of the Illyrian camps with her new family and was helping to teach those few still alive who had magic to control it. Cassian spent all of his time with her when he was not out on a mission for Rhysand and the last time Elain received a letter from Nesta, she told her that she was to expect a visit soon. It must have been great news if her sister wasn't willing to write it on paper.

Elain, on the other hand, lived with Lucien on neutral ground between the Fae and human lands, in a court without high lords and without concerns. Jurian, Vassa and her mate were the closest figures to this position, but no one tried to outclass the others. Elain had immediately established that she should not be considered one of the leaders, despite her standing next to Lucien. It wasn't fair to those who expected to be led by someone capable and she just didn't care to take up a role where you had to argue with people twenty-four hours a day.

This obviously didn't mean that she didn't help her husband when he needed it. She tried to give him as much support as she could and give him as much advice as she thought right, but she never pushed him to make one decision rather than another in important matters.

She entered the estate, stirring her shoulders to relieve some of the tension that had accumulated during the day. For however relaxing it might be for the mind, Elain had to admit it, gardening destroyed her back.

She was removing dirt from under her fingernails when she turned right in the direction of her room and bumped into someone. She opened her eyes wide, flapping her arms so as not to fall butt down on the ground.

A crimson head that she would recognize everywhere moved frantically in front of her and then two strong hands tightened around her arms, pulling her towards and making her regain her balance.

She placed her hands on Lucien's chest instinctively and they shook when he snickered, pushing her to look at his face. A lopsided smile made its way over his lips, which turned into a real smile when he bent over her, placing a light kiss on Elain's mouth.

His hands moved and landed on her hips, pressing her flat against his chest.

When they broke off Lucien burst out laughing, placing his hand on her cheek. Elain frowned, "What is it?"

Lucien was looking over her, a hint of joy in his voice even after he stopped laughing, "What happened to your hair?" he asked her, reaching towards her head. Elain moved slightly, carrying both hands where his own were. Lucien patted her wrists, "Hold still, I'll just... fix it for you." he murmured, closing in again.

He was so near, that she had her eyes at the height of his throat and could see how his Adam's apple moving every time he swallowed. He must have been training, because there was a strong smell of sweat and his breath seemed rather wheezy. Elain had always liked the golden tone that his skin took on every time he exercised, covering himself with tiny droplets of sweat.

Elain complained when Lucien accidentally pulled a lock of her hair and pinched his side, telling him to do it more gently.

"Sorry love," he said chuckling, taking two steps back to admire his work. He tilted his head to the side, with a thoughtful expression, then smiled widely, looking her in the eyes, "How did you manage to tangle them so much?"

Elain motioned to their rooms and he offered his arm for support. She accepted it gladly, clutching onto him and then they began to walk down the long corridor overlooking the garden. Lucien was gazing out, but Elain knew that the second she opened her mouth, all his attention would be on her.

"I was pruning those small trees that the last visitors brought us, they are called bonsai trees, and a little bird landed on my head," she explained, with wide open eyes.

Lucien cackled, looking affectionately at her, "A little bird didn't land on your head, it legit nested there."

Elain shoved him gently, "I had to shoo him away three times," she said almost regrettedly, "I put him on the oak tree."

"I saw that it's growing very fast." he pointed out to her, nodding and casting a glance at the still small tree planted in the back of their garden. "It will be huge in a couple of centuries."

Elain stiffened to those words.

Her immortality was still a delicate subject. She had accepted almost every aspect of becoming Fae, but she couldn't stop worrying every time a member of her family went on a mission to some hostile environment and risked not returning. The idea of having to spend the rest of eternity without them frightened Elain to the point of keeping her awake at night.

Lucien noticed and held his breath, "Think of when our children will play on the branches and bounce on the swings we'll put there." he whispered to her, trying to make her change her train of thought.

They stopped right in front of the door of their room and Lucien held her face in his hands. Elain closed her eyes to the touch, basking in that familiar and long-awaited warmth. She opened them again and looked him in the eyes, carrying a hand to his cheek and drawing the line of the scar with one finger.

Lately she had thought about expanding their family very often. Jurian and Vassa were company enough and all the passers-by they hosted, with the dozens of families living in their own territory, they never lacked the presence of other people, but this feeling, this desire... they were different.

The fact of wanting to create a new life with the man she loved - even the thought alone was enough to excite her.

Lucien smiled at her as he licked his lower lip and she stood on her toes the exact moment he bent down to kiss her. Their noses smashed together and they laughed, lips rubbing against lips.

The amusement was short-lived, however, when Lucien's hands slid down and held her hips, going even further south. He pushed her forward, over him, and Elain drew a deep breath, taking so much air that she rubbed her breasts against his chest, when she felt Lucien's hard length against her stomach.

He lowered himself even more, wrapping her rear in his hands and kissing her ear shell, "You always forget that I can feel everything through the bond, my sweet and dear Lainy." one of his hands went up her back, drawing imaginary lines on her spine.

Elain shuddered, carrying a hand between the two of them and placing it on the crotch of his pants. Lucien caught his breath abruptly and bit her ear slightly, making her moan.

"Why are we still out here then?" she asked innocently, pushing him away enough so that she could look him in the face.

His eyes darkened and he lifted her off the floor in a swift motion before opening the door to their room and taking her into the bathroom they shared, taking her against the shower wall over and over again until the only word Elain could pronounce was his name, as she fractured for the fifth time around him.

acotar tag list (if you want to be removed/added dm me or send an ask)

@tottenhamboys20 @sjm-things @kris10maas @awesomelena555 @sannelovesreading @queenamydien29 @ireallyshouldsleeprn @messyhairday-me @ncssian @observationanxioustheorist @my-fan-side @booksstorm @maastrash @sayosdreams @thedarkdemigod @courtofjurdan @thewayshedreamed @ladywitchling @nahthanks

[proxylynn]

Underfell: File Name not Edgy Enough #27

Chapter 27: Burden

WARNING: I WANT NO RESPONSIBILITY OVER SPOILING THINGS FOR OTHERS. THAT BEING SAID, THIS IS HOW FILE NAME NOT FOUND WOULD FUNCTION IN THE AU OF UNDERFELL. BEFORE YOU READ THIS, UNLIKE THE NICE TIME OF UNDERTALE, THIS WORLD IS KILL OR BE KILLED. THIS STORY WILL BE GRAPHIC, GORY, USE SWEARS LIKE NOBODY'S BUSINESS, AND DEAL WITH SENSITIVE SUBJECT MATTERS. FOR EXAMPLE, THOSE OF YOU WHO HAVE READ THE FILE NAME RELOCATED SPOOF WILL KNOW HOW I PICTURE THIS VERSION OF LYNSIE COMING TO THE UNDERGROUND. IT IS NOT AN ACCIDENT. IT IS NOT BECAUSE OF SOMETHING DUMB. IT IS BECAUSE SHE CHOOSES TO END HER LIFE. SO TAKE THIS WITH A GRAIN OF SALT. I MADE IT BECAUSE I NEEDED TO LET SOME OF THIS EDGINESS OUT OF MYSELF. WHICH I GUESS MAKES UNDERFELL LYNSIE EVEN MORE TRUE TO WHO I REALLY AM. ANYWAY, ENJOY. ^_^

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[A quick recap]

My melancholy blinds me to my current surroundings. I only come out of it once a spotlight hits me.

"The hell...?"

Things look funny. No doubt it's a setup by Mettaton. But I'm unsure what this act is. I mean, it looks like a receptionist's waiting room. A desk and some random chairs.

"GOOD EVENING, LADIES AND GENTS...!"

Mettaton zips in wearing a red suit and shoves me in a chair as he takes center stage.

"FIRST AND FOREMOST, WE HERE AT MTTTV WOULD LIKE TO APOLOGIZE FOR THE LACK OF ME OVER THE COURSE OF THE PROGRAM. DUE TO THE LACK PREP WORK WITH MY COSTAR HERE, WE SADLY HAD TO FORGO A THRILLING ACT BACK IN LEVEL TWO INVOLVING HUNDREDS OF EXPLOSIVES!!"

I so freaking called it. I should let him have his moment...Nah!

"I thought you said that act was shit anyway?"

He extends an arm to cover my mouth.

"FORGIVE HER. SHE'S LOST A LOT OF BLOOD AND NOT ALL THERE MENTALLY."

I leer at him flatly.

"BUT...DARLING HERE IS GOING TO MAKE AMENDS WITH US ALL RIGHT NOW. IT'S TIME TO ANSWER SOME BURNING QUESTIONS."

I'm so confused as he lets go and leaps onto the desk, posing dramatically.

"IT'S TIME FOR..."

A large neon sign shaped like him drops from the ceiling.

"BURNING THE MIDNIGHT OIL WITH A KILLER ROBOT! THE LATE NIGHT TALK SHOW HOSTED BY YOURS TRULY."

Huh. Not a bad title.

"I thought you were working on a courtroom trial program?"

He scoots to now sit behind the desk.

"UNFORTUNATELY, WHILE I DO HAVE THE FUNDS, I DON'T HAVE AVAILABLE WORKERS TO MAKE SUCH A SET. SO...WE'RE DOING THIS INSTEAD."

"Heh...Must be hard to meet your expectations."

"DARLING, YOU HAVE NO IDEA."

A tense dramatic score plays.

"SO, DARLING...ARE YOU READY TO TELL ME EVERYTHING?"

Ah. I see now. Fine, Metta, have it your way. Just be careful what you wish for. You may not like it. Now don't get me wrong. I know my limits. I'm not about to tell him EVERYTHING. I'm not that stupid. But if he wants truth, he's going to get a version that's missing some characters and other junk.

"As you wish. You wanna know the truth? You want to scar the entire Underground? Sure. Why not. What else do I have to lose at this point since you exposed me? So congratulations! I hope you like the prize you've been longing to get. Because I sure as hell don't."

Let the show commence.

[Now our featured presentation]

"RIIIIGHT...ANYWAY...WHY NOT INTRODUCE YOURSELF. LET THE UNDERGROUND KNOW JUST A BIT ABOUT YOU."

I wave with a stupid grin to where I think a camera is.

"Howdy, monsters of the Underground. My name is Lynsie. Last I checked, I'm 5'8'', twenty eights years old, born November 7th, am a Scorpio, blood type A+, and enjoy long naps by the beach."

Am I introducing myself or recording a dumb dating profile video?

Mettaton whips out some cards from his desk.

"REALLY? YOU'RE THAT OLD? HUH."

"Yeah. Why?"

"YOU LOOK OLDER THAN THAT."

I sneer.

"It's the raccoon eyes. Insomnia is a hell of a slap to the face."

"THAT ASIDE...HOW ARE YOU FEELING? YOU'VE BEEN THROUGH A LOT SINCE THIS PROGRAM STARTED."

"I'm grateful to have this reprieve. It's nice to not be flung into fight after fight for a moment. I don't like fighting. I'd much rather avoid any conflict if able."

"SUCH A KIND GIRL. ARE ALL HUMANS THESE DAYS LIKE YOU?"

I eye him funny.

"WHAT?"

"Do mean 'kind' or 'stupid'? Because every monster has called me a fool for being nice."

"STUPID IS A STRONG WORD. NAIVE IS MORE LIKE IT."

I rumble lowly in my seat.

"But...To answer you properly, no. Not all humans are like me. Or...I'm not like most humans."

"OOOOH~, SUCH AN AMBIGUOUS ANSWER. FINE THEN, IF YOU'RE GOING TO BE LIKE THAT, I'LL HAVE TO BE MORE BLUNT IN MY QUESTIONS. LET'S SEE..."

He flips through some of his cards.

"OH! HERE'S ONE...HOW DID YOU COME TO FIND YOURSELF IN THE UNDERGROUND?"

Blunt? I'll give you blunt.

"Easy. I tried to kill myself."

[SNOWDIN: Skeleton House in present time]

The mood in the room sours as the human continues.

"Yep. You see, Mt. Ebott has a reputation, a legend dating back lord knows how long, that those who climb the mountain never return. This has made it a popular place to die. Not as bad as the literal 'Suicide Forest' of Japan, but it does the job okay."

Mettaton's screen blacks out.

"Don't give me that look. You wanted this. You wanted the truth. So take it. Take the blunt no holds bar truth of the matter. And you know what else? It wasn't the first time either. I can think of at least five other attempts. Each more pathetic than the last. But, if memory serves me right, I do believe my very first try was when I was still so very small. Somewhere around age six to eight. I had learned that apple seeds contain cyanide, a very toxic poison. Of course, there's not a heck of a lot in a single seed, but if you ingest a lot...well...Kid me didn't know how many were needed. Just that it was deadly. As you can see, I didn't have enough and I didn't try that form of suicide again. I don't try the same kind twice. I'm too fearful of messing things up the second time. What if it only partly works and I end up surviving? Heh...Trying to end it all only to live but in even worse condition? The irony would be such a hilarious joke. Then again, that's my life in a nutshell. One big cruel unrelenting joke."

Toriel's eyes water. She knew her child had her demons, but she knew not just how far back they spawned. Mettaton's screen relights.

"I...I WASN'T EXPECTING..."

"Yeah, no one does. No one expects me to be so dark. But what can I say? I do a damn good job hiding it."

"BUT...WHY THOUGH? WHAT WOULD MAKE A CHILD THAT BENT ON KILLING THEMSELVES?"

She takes a deep breath and lounges back in her chair.

"You ever feel guilty for something? Something you have no idea why you should feel that way for but you just do?"

She runs her hands over her face.

"I don't remember why I asked her that question. Maybe I was just morbidly curious. I knew my siblings were unexpected pregnancies. The eldest never came to be, so whether it was a boy or girl is forever unknown. My brother came about in the randomness of my mom hooking up with my dad. She married my dad because, well, she did like him but also so that he wouldn't be deported once his school visa ran out. He and his family escaped their homeland to start a new life...but did so illegally. Even on the surface, there's no true freedom. Four years into the marriage, I was born. Things only seemed to spiral from there. Dad would stay out drinking. Mom would be pissed. Bro and I would hide in my room and try to keep the fighting out. Mom gave up on him, someone else charmed her heart and would later be the father of my sister. Eight years into this world and they divorce and months later sis is born. She was unknown and with how old mom was at the time, she now suffers from spontaneous seizures."

The girl looks up in thought.

"So a few years ago, I asked mom...Was I unplanned like they were? Was I another surprise baby?"

She looks back down, her face holding a more cold expression.

"No, she told me. You were the only planned one. ...I should've stopped there. *sigh* I then asked...Why? She answered..."

Emotion leaves her.

"We had you in the hopes that you'd fix our marriage."

Silence. Dead silence.

"So much pressure. And to put that on a babe? How was I supposed to solve your problems? How is it my fault you couldn't stand each other when things got rough?! How is a kid supposed to make sure you don't start taking drugs and acquire sixteen felonies?! How is it my job to make sure you don't regret loving someone else?! How is that fair?! Why not take some fucking responsibility for once in your god damn life?!"

She becomes irate, grabbing one of the chairs and beating it into another one till both are useless before ending with a guttural roar that pains the throat in its harshness.

Toriel recalls similar words from her not long after they became close and she found her.

"Child? You're trembling. Is everything all right? Child, please. Just speak to me. Tell me what's wrong."

"I hate you! I hate all of you! You fucking pieces of shit! Why?! Why is it so hard for any of you to care?! I've been missing for days or weeks and none of you care! *sobs* Did you ever love me?! Why did you even bother having me if you don't even care that I'm gone?! *bawling* Why? Why? Someone tell me why...please..."

"I know this isn't the most pleasant of times to ask...But since we've come to know more about each other, I have been curious about something. The humans that fall down here...They tend to not fall down for the happiest of reasons. If it is not too painful...Can you share with me your reason? What made you come to a cursed mountain where none ever return from?"

"*hard sniffling* They used to care. I used to know what it was like to know others cared. I can't remember when they started to pull away. When I became invisible. I just want to know why. Was it something I did? Did I do something wrong? Did I not make them proud? I thought I did everything right. I was a good girl. *voice cracking* I'm a good girl. Aren't I?"

Even Grillby had memories of such talk pop into his head.

"You are an amazing person. You live in his cold place and open this bar to every sad face willing to cast aside their mean spirits for spirits of another kind. You put up with a lot of nonsense, a good bit came from me today, and I'm sorry about that."

"Where is all this coming from?"

"I'm not done. You have been nothing but nice to me. And doing that isn't easy in this world we live in. Since meeting you, you've shown me more kindness than I got from my own family, and this is only our second meeting. Heh, how pathetic is that? I fell into the Underground trying to die, only to end up wanting to live because of the few that showed me any decency. And for that, I give you my thanks."

"Pussycat?"

"I don't know if it was the punch or I'm just in a weird mood. I'm probably making things awkward. No one wants to hear someone ramble about lame junk when at a bar. This is a place people go to forget things. I know I've got a lot I want to forget. Like the three or four times I ran away from home but never had a plan and always had the cops take me back. Or the time I cussed out my grandma because I thought she lost my dog when it turned out my mom had dumped the pup at a shelter and told me it escaped. Or the suicide attempts..."

"Attempts?"

"Oh yeah, there was more than one. Hard to believe, but I'm a very sad person. No, that's being too nice. Depressed is more accurate. 90% of the smiles you see me do are fake. Just part of the mask I wear to hide how truly miserable I really am."

"God, I hate myself. I'm a sad pathetic mess."

Sans now gets a clearer picture of the baggage weighing on her.

"oh! and don't forget, you're making dinner. pap only let that slide because you were practically dead. so don't get any ideas thinking you can get out of it."

"Did you just really say that?!"

"the hell is your problem?"

"Did you really just insinuate she'd harm herself?"

"i dunno...maybe?"

"You can't say that kind of stuff to her!"

"why not?"

"You...You don't know how she came to the Underground, do you?"

"she told me that she fell."

"I'm not comfortable telling you this, seeing as she hasn't and I don't think it's my place, but I can't let you say idiotic things like that."

"okay, weed, you have intrigued me. if she didn't fall, then how did she get here?"

"Well...Falling is how she came to the Underground. But...She didn't fall from an accident."

"you're telling me she..."

"She fell on purpose. She...was trying to die. I don't know about her life on the surface. She doesn't tell anyone about that stuff, not even Mom. But I have been with her since the start and I can tell...Under all that toughness and pass the goofy dork innards...She's very sad deep down."

And that moment that recently happened at Grilbby's.

"enough with the act! you act all calm, with your little quips and remarks. making you look so well put together. but i know better. i know you're just as messed up as the rest of us. so why don't you get off your high horse and get out of my life!"

"You're right. This is an act. Every day, I wake up and I pretend to be this way. To play this role of the girl that never gives in and can smile through it all. I put on my mask and face this world as best that I can. But inside I'm dying. I'm being crushed by insecurities, doubt, depression, and so much negativity that I let myself fall into a pit hoping for the sweet embrace of death. I have attempted to end my life a good handful of times. Each more pathetic than the last. Even now, I'm just a few triggers shy of crumbling into a blubbering mass of tears. Yet there are few things that keep me from doing those bad things now that I'm here. And if putting on this act keeps me in, relative, ease...Then yeah. I'm gonna pretend my ass off that all is fine with me. Because I'm a fucking moron that is too afraid to open up to those closest to me and ask for help!"

Papyrus, of course, takes all this in as vital information he could use against the human. Her emotional and mental instability can be used to manipulate her. Grooming her to be more obedient to his will.

"I'm sorry."

"DAMN RIGHT YOU'RE SORRY."

"No...I mean, I'm sorry for earlier. It was wrong for me to hit you. You just...*sigh* How do I say this without sound like a dweeb?"

"JUST...SAY WHAT YOU WANT TO SAY. DON'T ALTER YOUR WORDS. THEY LOSE IMPACT THAT WAY."

"If that's true, then don't make a big deal out of this."

"W-WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

"I am an emotional wreck and going through so much internal bullshit that it ain't funny. So know that the stupid things I'm about to say are true because this is making me feel very vulnerable and uncomfortable which I think you feel too."

By now the human was breathing heavily over the shattered remains of once recognizable objects, slowly regaining her composure. She stares at the mess for some time. Mettaton doesn't even try to do anything that could get her attention while in such a state. Eventually, she drops the bits in her hands and takes a seat in the chair she spared. Slumping in remorse and holding her face.

"I'm sorry. That...That was shameful. I'll pay you back for the damage."

"DO YOU NEED A MOMENT?"

She rubs her eyes of faint moisture.

"N-No...No. I'm fine. That...That was just a moment of venting weakness. I normally cry this crap out of my system. But...I'm so sick of crying. Yet...That felt good though. So much pent-up bullshit I don't or can't let out was just dropped like weights off my back. ...Does this count as therapy? Because this feels better than that child physiologist mom sent me to after I ran away...the first time."

"SOUND LIKE YOU DON'T CARE FOR YOUR PARENTS."

"You'd think that, but no. Don't get me wrong. I love my parents. They could've been far worse even with the flaws I've mentioned. Dad never missed work and made sure bills could be paid. Mom always made sure we could eat even if it meant she didn't and often broke the law to do so."

Her head lolls back as she lounges.

"It's easier to dwell in the negatives than the positives growing up. It can make for a bitter soul. This is just the tip of a massive iceberg, there is so much more crap hidden below. But now is neither the time nor place to dive deeper into those murky waters. I'll drown if I stay under too long. *sigh* I don't hate them for the life they brought me into. I'm just...disappointed. Disappointed by the choices they made and things they expected to get from them. Disappointed in myself for allowing all that to have so much of a hold on me. Disappointed...So very disappointed...*long drawn out groan* Could we please leave the personal questions for now?"

"VERY WELL."

He flips through the cards.

"YOU'VE BEEN IN THE UNDERGROUND FOR SOME TIME NOW. HOW HAS THAT BEEN? WHAT IS IT LIKE TO BE A HUMAN AMONG MONSTERS?"

This gets their attention. The human knows better than to tell all. But she's so far been extremely open. They hoped she was of sound mind enough to remember to keep some secrets.

"Even after all the attempted murder...I prefer monsters to humans. Because at least once the fighting is over, things can be somewhat normal. It's like 'hey, I know I just tried to kill you, but do you wanna maybe hang out for a bit?' and then that happens. It blows my mind how there's no animosity or spite afterward. After Humans fight with each other there's no calm, no peace of it being over, hell, a war might break out if it was bad enough. You never know how bad someone feels after and if the grudge they carry will make them go to extreme measures to make them feel better. Well...Except for the Irish. Those lads can tussle and then be all chummy after like it was a bonding experience. Nice folk. Always fancied them. Heh...Kinda like Monsters. A tough outside but nice inside. Maybe that's one of the reasons they were persecuted too. ...God, my kind is trash. All it knows is hate. We even hate ourselves. And one day...That hate will be the end of us."

She moves some hair from her face. A small smile coming to her.

"Moments like this...It's nice. Brief pauses of reflection and repose. Typically I end up doing this kind of thing in my head or I talk to myself. Funny how that works, the mind I mean. It is a self-aware entity in itself that can be both you and not you at the same time yet won't confuse itself by doing so. Probably why the imagination is such vital part of it. *pause* Heh...My bad. Lost myself for a moment. Back on point...Sure, this all began with you nearly killing me and it's probably just leading up to something else. Something good or bad. Yet till that happens...This is nice."

"SPEAKING OF NICE...YOUR LV HASN'T GONE UP FROM ITS BASE LEVEL. WE'VE SEEN YOU GO INTO FIGHTS, SO IT'S NOT THAT YOU'VE AVOIDED THEM COMPLETELY."

"As I've said...I don't like fighting."

"YOU MUST BE AWARE THAT PACIFISUM IS NOT A RECOMMENDED OR AN EASY THING TO DO IN THE UNDERGROUND. IS IT HARD BEING NICE FOR YOU DOWN HERE?"

"Is it hard for a fish to swim or bird to fly? Nice is my default. I don't have it in me to be genuinely mean. I can be rude or even a bitch, but that's only if that was how I was treated first. The real hard part about it is getting others to understand this niceness is real. Some pick it up with no trouble. But others are difficult. Going so far as to think I'm trying to lull them into a false sense of safety as part of an evil human trap. Can you believe that?"

Sans eyes Papyrus who rolls his sockets at his brother, both knowing damn well she meant him.

"EVEN SO, HAS THERE BEEN A TIME WHERE YOU WANTED TO FIGHT BACK? SURELY EVEN I PROBABLY INCURRED SOME IRE FROM YOU?"

She looks at the mechanical machination with a mix of confusion and annoyance.

"Ire is a strong word. True, I'm not happy about this situation. Exposing me for ratings. One of your goons bashing me over the head. The creepy stalking behavior by watching me through cameras. The needless puzzles and fighting. All of it wasn't necessary."

"I DISAGREE. EVERY BIT WAS COMPLETELY NECESSARY."

"Bull crap."

"NOW NOW, LET ME EXPLAIN. REGARDLESS OF YOUR INTENTIONS, YOU HAVE TO AGREE THAT YOU BEING HUMAN DOES CALL FOR CERTAIN MEASURES TO BE TAKEN. HUMANS DEAL PHYSICAL DAMAGE AND MONSTERS ARE WEAK TO SUCH ATTACKS."

"I know that. Get to your point, Metta."

"MY POINT? VERY WELL. MY DATABASE CONTAINS THE COLLECTED INFORMATION WE'VE GATHERED FROM THE PREVIOUS HUMANS THAT CAME BEFORE YOU. EACH WEAKER AND WEAKER AS TIME PASSED. YOU, ON THE OTHER HAND, HAVE BEEN DISPLAYING STRANGE ABILITIES..."

A monitor comes down, displaying the human in her earlier distress and giving off that strange energy.

"NOT TO MENTION YOUR SOUL HAS BEEN CHANGING IT'S COLOR WITHOUT MAGIC INFLUENCE."

The monitor shows the many different colors her soul was throughout the show.

"SO, DARLING, AS YOU CAN SEE EVERYTHING HAS BEEN COMPLETELY NECESSARY. EVERY LITTLE OBSTACLE ALLOWED FOR MORE OF YOUR UNKNOWNS TO BE REVEALED. HOWEVER..."

The monitor goes back up.

"I GET THE FEELING YOU'RE STILL HIDING SOMETHING."

She glares at the robot.

"I repeat, this wasn't necessary. All you needed to do was ask."

She sits up straight and focuses. Her soul emerges...it is a deep dull blue.

"I don't know everything. Seeing as this whole 'soul' thing isn't known on the surface anymore. To use now, the soul is an intangible thing. It leaves when we die and does whatever since no one truly knows what happens after death. But...I do know my soul isn't normal. Not normal from what I've learned here anyway. I possess ten traits for which my soul can become."

Shock smacks them. Even Mettaton spits oil from some port.

"T-TEN?!"

She nods.

"Ten traits. Ten colors. Nine of which are completely fine."

Her breathing falters as she concentrates harder, forcing the soul to change color to her will.

"Blue, integrity. Cyan, patience. Green, kindness. Pink, passion. Purple, perseverance. Orange, bravery. Red, determination. Yellow, justice. White, hope. ...These are my main traits. The nine that make up my core personality. Yet...There is one, the last one, that I will not show you. No matter what."

A question mark appears on Mettaton's screen. Toriel and Sans know full well which one she means.

"WON'T SHOW? HOW COME?"

"That soul is too dangerous. One that I can't control. The black soul of relentlessness."

Papyrus sockets widen. Sans wasn't making it up after all.

"IF YOU TRULY EXPECT ME TO BUY INTO THIS BLACK SOUL NONSENSE THAN YOU BETTER FIND A WAY TO PROVE TO ME THAT IT'S REAL!"

"and how do you expect me to do that? have it triggered and let her kill half the town?"

"OF COURSE NOT! SHE'D NEVER GET THAT FAR INTO SUCH A SPREE ONCE I SLAY HER."

"YOU DON'T THINK I CAN KILL HER?"

"her? sure, you'd kill her no problem. she'd probably let you do it if things got really bad. but the black soul? that's a different story all together."

"YOU TALK AS THOUGH YOU'VE SEEN THIS 'BLACK SOUL' IN ACTION."

"..."

"YOU HAVE, HAVEN'T YOU?"

"that thing isn't something you want to mess with. don't go after something you can't handle."

"YOU DARE THINK THAT PITIFUL CREATURE CAN HARM ME?!"

"no! i don't think it would harm you! i know it would kill you!"

"I have no will over that trait. It consumes me utterly. Coldly targeting anything and everything as a threat, then calculatingly eliminating victims brutally with no remorse by any means. Pain doesn't phase it. It has no fear. But I do. I fear this soul. I fear becoming that...that thing. That beast."

The robot's screen blips.

"YOU MAKE IT SOUND TERRIBLE. IF IT'S AS BAD AS YOU SAY, HOW HASN'T YOUR LV INCREASED? SURELY A MURDEROUS SOUL LIKE THAT WOULD HAVE A BODY COUNT ATTACHED TO IT?"

"I have thankfully been taken out of that state when it happens. My brother down here, the flower you may have seen me with, he's the one that saves me. I don't know how he does it as I only barely register what happens when the Black Soul is in control. But it's one of the reasons why we stay together. He doesn't want to die and I don't want to hurt anyone, so it's a good deal for us both."

"AND DO YOU KNOW WHAT TRIGGERS SUCH A STATE TO HAPPEN?"

"I'm not 100% sure but I have a theory. The worst of times. Moments when I lose all hope or can't take the pain. Mentally and/or physically. It takes over when I can't deal with things. And I guess it tries to 'solve' the problem...by getting rid of it."

Her demeanor is becoming more unsettled as she continues.

"I...I normally am unwilling to share this information. I don't like being personal with strangers. But since this is a live broadcast, and I've basically torn open a can of worms full of my emo baggage, I want this to be known. I need others to understand the danger. Because you all seem to view me as an easy kill. The dumb nice human that doesn't fight back. It'll be easy to get her soul. Hell, if it weren't for the black trait, I'd have given this thing to you guys ages ago. But it's not worth it. There's no point going to the surface, otherwise I'd be more inclined to leave and be subjected to the crap I deal with. And trust me...You don't want to know what I deal with."

Her eyes get dark and her expression serious to the point it's unnerving.

"The death that can possibly happen if the black soul activates and isn't stopped could be limitless. As the bearer of this curse, I remain here. Not because I see less harm if it triggers around monster, hell no. I trust my death to you because I have faith in monster kind being able to handle it. It's because I don't want to risk it being weaponized by humanity. Magic...REAL magic like this is gone from the surface. If it were to be discovered now...Magic will be coveted like any other valuable resource. Blood and dust will be spilled over ownership. The experiments to find a better means of harvesting it, the torture, the suffering, the endless cycle of hate feeding upon the lack of morality. I have no doubt monsters wouldn't even be seen as people. We've done it to different creeds of humanity throughout history, hell we still do it. I...I don't want that for Monsters. Part of me is saying I'm overthinking it, but I can't that optimistic side of me knowing all the fucked up shit Humans do. I don't want you guys to suffer. I don't want to cause harm. I don't want to see any more death! Please!!"

Her eyes are watering and her body trembling.

"I...I-I hate this feeling. This h-helplessness. I'm caged. I'm useless. I'm nothing on the surface. I'm a danger underground. I'm my own worst enemy and I don't know how to fight. *struggling* Why? Why didn't the fall kill me? Why can't I just die? Why am I so weak? I can't even bleed to death!"

She's a mess, weeping into her gloved hands. But Mettaton dismisses this display and keeps going.

"WEAK? YOU SELL YOURSELF SHORT. CLAWING INTO YOUR OWN BODY ISN'T A VERY WEAK THING AT ALL. COME TO THINK OF IT...IN YOUR ENCOUNTER WITH MUFFET, YOU TOLD HER WHY YOU DID IT. CARE TO EXPLAIN WHAT YOU MEANT?"

A recording is played.

["I have just spent an ungodly amount of time trapped in that elevator over there having my soul violated by people that don't even exist anymore on this plane of reality. I have clawed my skin off to stop feeling their hands on me."]

Her face has the look of someone biting their tongue fairly hard to stay in control.

"What's to explain? I meant what I said and said what I meant."

"YOU'RE AVOIDING THE QUESTION, DARLING."

"No. You're refusing the answer."

"YOU SAID YOU'D TELL THE TRUTH!"

"I am!"

Agitation mounts.

"BULLSHIT! HOW THE HELL CAN ANYONE BELIEVE THAT?"

"I don't give a crap if you believe me or not! You weren't the one there!"

"JUST TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED!"

"It doesn't matter! You can't do anything about it! No one can! You can't stop people that break the laws of reality!"

Sans didn't like what he was hearing. And none of them liked that her still exposed soul was sparking with that strange energy.

"THERE ARE NO PEOPLE LIKE THAT!"

"How would you know?!"

"IF EVEN A FLY FARTS ANYWHERE IN THE UNDERGROUND, I KNOW ABOUT IT. IF ANYONE WITH ABILITIES LIKE THAT WERE HERE, THEY WOULDN'T BE UNKNOWN FOR VERY LONG."

"Did you not hear my words? They don't even exist anymore on this plane of reality! You can't find people that are outside time and space, you fucking idiot!"

"I'M THE IDIOT?! DO YOU NOT HEAR YOURSELF?! OUTSIDE TIME AND SPACE?! YOU CAN'T EVEN MAKE A CONVINCING LIE!"

"I'm not lying, you insufferable ego-maniacal narcissistic jackass!"

"TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED!!"

"I did! Accept the fact there is shit in life you can't fathom or comprehend yet is true! Like Bigfoot, life on other planets, or stigmata! Unexplained phenomenons are the backbones of reality! Deal with it!"

"THAT'S NOT AN UNEXPLAINED PHENOMENON! THAT'S A PURE IMPROBABLE IMMPOSSIBLITY!"

"By who's rule?! Are you God?! Do you know every infallible law the universe runs on?! No! You know nothing! No one does! So stop digging for shit that isn't there before something bad happens!"

"THEN GIVE ME A REAL ANSWER!"

"Stop...Please stop!"

"DARLING..."

"I s̷ái͟d͝ s̷t̢̛o̧͘p̀͟!̵̕͜!̧"

A surge of energy bursts from her soul, the flash whites out the screen and hurts the eyes. While blinded they all can hear the garbled sounds of pain and the sudden thud of weight hitting the floor. Their sight comes back to see the human writhing on the ground and gripping her soul, teeth bared in restrained growling.

"DARLING?"

She struggles to make her body move. Just slightly getting her head off the floor.

"Th͜i͞s͠...͜T́h̴i̵s̸ ̛įs ̕y̕our ̛f́aul͝t͏..̢.̴I͜ ͟a͡ske͝d ͠y̕o͏u t̷o͜ ͜s̛top..̢.̵"

The energy courses from her soul over her form, a brighter than normal light emanates from her clutched soul. She weakly pulls herself up to be supported by her free arm and the reason for the light is made clear, a crack has marred her soul. But that is far from the worst part. Sans spots it before Toriel but she's the one that points it out.

"Oh no!"

"What's wrong?"

"The darkness!"

Indeed. Black began to appear in the human's heart. The darkness corrupting the white light and faintly leaking out of the crack. The girl feels this. Panic flashes in her eyes but she's in no condition to handle so much on top of what has already happened.

"Wh̸en̢ wil̡l҉ ̛yo͡u̶ le͘ar͜n.͞..̡Y͘ou ̴fuc̀kín͜g id̴iot.̸..W͢hén wil̡l yoų ́a̶l̢l͜ léar͘n that͏ ̵y͘our act̵i҉o͞ns ͏ha͡v̛e ͘co͡n̴seq͘uenc͘e̶s͘?͘!"

The distortion. The off tone. The malice that seeped out. Perhaps it was enough proof for the automaton to believe her earlier words. For Mettaton seems to be distracted one second and then takes it all seriously the next. One of his hands snakes under his desk and the next thing to happen is the floor beneath the human opens up, dropping her into the unknown. Glitched roaring echoes as she plummets. A sickening crash leads into dead silence.

"WELL...THAT WAS INTERESTING."

His nonchalance about the whole thing is upsetting.

"SADLY, MY CO-STAR SEEMS TO BE HAVING A BIT OF TROUBLE. NOT EVERYONE CAN HANDLE THE STRESS OF BEING IN THE SPOTLIGHT, LIKE MOI."

His flamboyance is rubbing them the wrong way.

"HOWEVER, DESPITE HER TEMPER TANTRUM AND LACK OF COOPERATION, I WILL ASSURE YOU ALL SHE IS NOT DEAD. I MERELY GAVE HER THE SMALL BREAK THAT SHE CLEARLY NEEDED."

It's likely that the break involved her bones or some body part.

"BUT...I CAN GIVE YOU ALL SOMETHING TO LOOK FORWARD TO...THIS WAS THE LAST PRELEWD ACT. THE NEXT TIME YOU SEE US TOGETHER, IT WILL BE FOR THE MAIN EVENT. THE FINAL BATTLE APPROACHES, MY ENCOURAGABLE VIEWERS. DO NOT MISS OUT ON THIS HISTORICAL MAKE OR BREAK MOMENT."

The show shifts into a commercial break.

Toriel begins shaking. She can't deal with this much longer. Grillby does what he can to give her support, but he too has much on his mind. His pussycat unloaded a TON of things and a lot of it was incredibly concerning. Papyrus ushers his brother away from the other two as not to be overheard.

"SO...HOW LONG?"

Sans looks at him funny.

"uh...what?"

"HOW LONG WERE THE BOTH OF YOU GOING TO HIDE THIS PART OF THE SECRET FROM ME?"

"um...which part?"

"THAT POWER. SHE HAS TEN TRAITS, SANS. JUST HOW STRONG IS THAT GIRL?"

Sans scratches his skull.

"i honestly don't know, pap. i didn't even know she had that many. my main worry was always the black trait, so i never asked about others."

Papyrus folds his arms and shuts his eyes in thought.

"i swear, i ain't lying to ya."

"I KNOW YOU'RE NOT."

"then...what's wrong?"

"*HUFF* I DON'T LIKE THIS. I DON'T LIKE THE IDEA OF THAT WEAKLING BEING POWERFUL."

His eyes open but look at nothing.

"I SHOULD'VE KNOWN SOMETHING WAS OFF THAT NIGHT...THAT PUNCH...SHE WAS HOLDING BACK SO MUCH..."

Papyrus clenches his fists into tight balls of rage.

"THAT BITCH."

"ya know she didn't want to hurt ya."

"THAT'S THE THING. SHE THOUGHT SHE COULD HURT ME. HOW WEAK DOES SHE THINK I AM? THAT'S WHAT'S PISSING ME OFF MORE THAN ANYTHING RIGHT NOW."

Sans sighs. One day his brother will taste humble pie and not like it.

[HOTLAND: LAB]

Undyne finishes off her sixth bowel of ramen and looks at Alphys.

"Well...That wasn't how I thought it was going to end. Was it really necessary to tell him to drop her?"

Alphys takes a few more notes and ponders.

"Would you rather there be no main event? Besides..."

She adjusts her glasses.

"If what the human said is true, then the Black Soul being triggered in an open area would result in mass casualties. The zone in which the ending will be shot in is, for the most part, closed and under my remote control. So even in the event of something going wrong, which the odds of such are highly unlikely, then any and all threats can be dealt with in an optimum manner."

Undyne nods.

"I guess that makes sense. Still...I don't what I saw. There was real fear in the human's eyes."

"Good. She should be afraid. She should be very afraid of what's to come."

"And what's that?"

"That would be spoilers."

"Damn it. *sigh* A human soul with ten traits...Sounds tough. I wanna fight it!"

"It does raise a lot of questions. One, in particular, is on my mind."

"What's that?"

"If a human soul, deprived of magic, possesses ten traits and begins gaining magic...What will happen when it attains 100% magic?"

A cold chill runs through the captain.

[HOTLAND: SOMEWHERE ON LEVEL 3]

I am getting so sick of this crap. Why can't I just die at this point?

"*muffled* Lynsie?"

The voice and light jostling is bringing me back to consciousness. Damn it. Here I go again.

My eyes weakly open to the sight of dirt and rock. Just an inch away from losing the ability to see. Like I need a handicap in all this.

"Lynsie? Are you okay?"

Ah, Flowey. It's about time we met back up.

"*groan* H-Hey, bro. I missed you."

He smiles sadly.

"Are you okay? Can you move?"

I roll over on my back and check myself.

[HP ���█████████ 10/40]

[HEARTBREAK level ONE in effect]

I figured that's what happened. No wonder the Black Soul was triggering. Thank goodness for the fall knocking my ass out or things would've gone bad fast.

"I think I'll be okay. Sore, but okay. I'm sadly getting used to falling and possible brain damage."

My answer has him pout.

"What's with the face, bro? You know I'm a tough cookie. I'll be fine."

His face gets full of concern.

"I...I heard what you told Mettaton."

Yeah, you and the rest of the Underground.

"I...I understand now why you didn't talk about your past. Why you kept to yourself. I'm sorry."

God, he's too sweet for this place. I reach over and gently stroke his petals.

"I love you, bro. You have no idea how much it means to me that you care. But don't pity me. I do that enough on my own."

I wearily sit up, shaking my head of all that baggage I brought up for the show.

"I wasn't pitying you. It's just..."

He fiddles with his leaves in a shy way but I cut his words off.

"Bro, I get it. I do. It's the same feeling like when you told me your history. Yet, let's be honest here, you're more mentally mature than me and I'm still not completely okay after getting all that off my chest. We can talk more about it later after this ordeal is over. Maybe over mom's cheesecake? Deal?"

"...You mean it?"

"Yeah. I promise."

He smiles brightly.

"Okay. I'd like that."

I pick myself up and stretch, taking a look around at where we are.

"Don't tell me he dropped me back at the start."

"Nope. This is still Level Three. In fact...I do believe MTT Resort is just past this place."

"...For real? Is it a safe space?"

"Yep. There are shops and rooms to rest."

I hear a heavenly choir sing in my head.

"Finally! The universe throws me a decent bone!"

I regret saying that the moment it leaves my mouth. Flowey looks at me funny.

"Don't take that out of context, you know what I meant."

"I don't know. You and Smiley Trashbag are eerily close."

My eye twitches. Things I wish Gaster didn't show me try to pop into my head.

"Are you okay? You look like you're about to puke."

"Never insinuate something like that ever again."

He shakes his head at me. I try to change the subject before I have a heart attack on camera.

"So...Are you able to follow me to the resort? I'm sick of being separated."

"There's ground outside of it and parts I can reach beyond it, but the resort itself I can't get in without some sort of aid like a pot. Cement and tile flooring is a pain to break into."

"Damn, bro, you hella strong."

There's a deactivated reversed conveyor belt that's attached to the artificial platforms.

"Is it safe to cross? It's kinda giving me 'trap' vibes."

"You should be fine. This is normally the part where the colored tiles would be used again, but you know, stuff changed. It's probably off."

"Ah. Gotcha. I guess...See ya soon?"

"You bet."

He ducks into the ground so I take it as my time to leave this pit. The entire time I feel on edge. With my luck, the trap will turn on and I get screwed. Thankfully nothing happens apart from some jets of flame randomly going off in the distance and making me jump like a wuss. At least it got me to the stairs quicker.

After a quite the climb, I reach the top perturbed yet undaunted as a four-way crossroads greets me, though the two paths on the sides are blocked. More Royal Guards, a cat to the left and some kind of insect on the right, both in that imposing armor.

"Well if it isn't my best customer..."

The Ice Scream rabbit pops up from behind the cart I wasn't paying attention to.

"Fancy seeing you again."

As odd as seeing him here is, he's a familiar face that is a sight for my sore eyes. I approach.

"Hey, guy, what's up? Haven't been seeing you much in Snowdin Forest for a bit."

He leans on the cart like a cool guy.

"Yeah...Been moving around seeing if I can make mad gold somewhere where the weather isn't the same temp as my product."

"Any luck?"

"Waterfall wasn't so bad. Even started a new program with rewards cards. Turn in a card with ten punches and get a free doubling of your next order. Speaking of which..."

He reaches into his pants pocket and hands me a punch card. Some holes have already been made.

"If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have had the funds to get this far. So...Instead of starting your card full, I may have added your previous buys. Can't say I haven't gotten better at my wonderful salesmanship."

I can't help but smile. He's come a long way. I'm proud of him.

"Well then, wonderful salesman, I'd like to add some more holes please."

"Heh...sure. But I'm warning you, prices have gone up. 25G. Got to charge more here 'cause of the heat."

"Understood, my dude. Um...Just curious...Got fudge pops? Kinda have this hankering for something chocolate."

He shakes his head.

"Sold out. The Royal Guards bought those like crazy."

"Damn. Oh well. One blue, orange, grape, and blood. All bisicles."

He fills my order and I pay the 100G.

"Here you go. All five ready to enjoy."

I look at him funny.

"Five?"

"Yep. Five. I definitely didn't toss in a strawberry one because of customer loyalty. Nope. Didn't do it."

Must...resist...the urge...to HUG!!

"...Thank you. That...That means a lot."

He gives me a wink and I practically skip away up another set of stairs. I place the treats in my inventory for now. I know not what crap will happen from here, so healing items are a big help.

I am met by a large complex. Redbrick that's been tagged with graffiti, yellow-tinted windows with some broken, a gold MTT sign with two Mettaton images with devil horns, a black & white checkered awning over the door, two large plant potters that have dry withered flower remnants, and a blood-red or just stained that way rug embroidered with gold MTTs.

"Classy."

I'm about to head inside when something hits my leg. A paper airplane? I inspect it to find it's a note.

[Hey! Go up the creepy alleyway on the right for some great deals!]

"...I'm gonna get mugged, aren't I?"

It's against my better judgment, but this is a neutral zone, so I should be okay. I wearily creep around, following spray-painted arrows, to end up finding two girls gossiping among garbage. They notice me and straighten up.

"Hey! Check it out!"

"Yeah! Check it out!"

"So, like, what's up? I'm Bratty, and this is my best friend, Catty."

"I'm Catty, and this is my best friend, Bratty."

Oh no...More valley speak!?! Why is that a thing down here?!

Bratty is a tall, green alligator or crocodile monster that wears a primarily black shawl with yellow and red details on the sides. She has yellow hair that flows into curls and red lipstick.

Catty is a plump purple cat creature who wears a set of black overalls with yellow buttons and tufts of red fur with yellow highlighted tips coming out from under it on either side. She has black hair with a red streak in it and a yellow earring on her left ear.

"Uh...Hi? So...This is a shop?"

"Like, the best shop!"

"You should buy ALL our stuff!"

Catty gets this blanket out and opens it out to show me their items. They don't have much, just four things, but I can't turn away from these items.

[25G - Junk Food - Has a big bite out of it]

[350G - Rusty Revolver - Bullets NOT included]

[350G - Tattered Western Hat - ATTACK up when worn]

[600G - Mystery Key - Probably to someone's house LOL]

A gun...How the fuck is that here?

"Oooh! I know that look!"

"That's the look of some wanting something!"

"Bratty! We're gonna be rich!"

"Where did you find this stuff?"

"I mean, like, where does anyone get guns, or food, or..."

"We found it in the garbage!"

I so called it.

"It's GOOD garbage."

"It's like, really good garbage."

"Where do you get the garbage?"

"Like, the garbage store, duh!!! ...Waterfall mostly."

"I found a gun in a dumpster!"

I check my gold...I don't have anywhere close to 1,300G for their garbage.

"Um...Maybe we could work out some sort of arrangement?"

They glare.

"That's poor talk."

"You need WAY more money."

What I need is to get that stuff away from them. That stuff is bad enough with humans, I don't want monsters messing with crap like guns.

"Ladies, I'm sure there's something we can do. Shops run on trade. This is just a trade of a different kind. I can't give you the gold, but I can get you other things. There's gotta something you'd both want that I can fetch for you in exchange?"

They mull it over.

"Thanks, but we, like, don't really need anything."

"Oh my god, can you go get us some Dazzleburgers?"

"We don't. Really need. Anything."

"Wait! I'll pay you 1000G if you get Mettaton to autograph my butt!"

Catty seems to be the easier one here. Maybe I can work with this.

"While I do know the guy, I'm not sure I can get Metta to sign your butt."

"Damn."

"Wait...You know Mettaton?!"

Their eyes sparkle.

"...Yes?"

They squeal with fanatical glee.

"Oh my God. Mettaton."

"Oh my GOD, METTATON."

"He's like...My robot husband."

"Actually he's like...MY robot husband."

"I think we're like...both going to marry him."

"We're both like, ALREADY married to him. He just, like, doesn't know it yet."

They're insane.

"Okay...Can I ask what's a Razzburger? I could try to get that."

Their eyes widen in shock.

"You don't know what a Dazzleburger is?"

"Do you, like, live under a rock?"

Don't we all do since this is a mountain?

"Dazzleburgers are epic!"

"They're only sold in the resort."

Interesting.

"Inside huh? Let me guess...Very pricey."

Bratty nods.

"The stuff inside, is like..."

"TOTALLY wicked expensive."

"But, like, this stuff we found is like..."

"TOTALLY wicked cheap."

"You should..."

"Like..."

"TOTALLY wicked buy all of it?"

"Cheap? You're selling a random key for 600G!"

They giggle at me and I sigh. Bitches, man...bitches.

"So where inside am I gettin' them?"

"The MTT-Brand Burger Emporium."

"You have to get them from Bugerpants."

That name...That name brings back memories...as well as sore spots. Douche-cat...

"Burgerpants."

"Yeah, that guy from the store. Yuck, what a creep."

"Yeah! He's a creep! But he's kind of cute, too..."

"C'mon Catty, don't you have ANY standards?"

"Nope!!!"

...You need standers, Catty.

"Yeah, I met him. Not so much a creep but he is a massive prick."

"OK, like, the annoying thing is..."

"He'd be OK if he just treated us with some respect."

"But he just acts..."

"Really weird."

"And then acts like it's OUR fault he acts that way!"

"Like, when we asked him to get those Dazzleburgers..."

"He dropped them and ran away before we could even say anything!"

"We were, like, going to share them."

"Really? I wasn't."

"Catty!"

This zone is full of awful people.

"One last thing...How many you want?"

Catty waves her paws.

"So many! Enough to fill a dumpster!"

"The mega value pack should cover us."

I give Bratty a thumbs up and leave their shady establishment. Now I enter the main building and this time I'm greeted by someone for once. It's either very diamond-like or very origami-like, but above all, it's a tiny monster.

"Welcome to MTT Resort - Hotland's biggest apartment-building-turned-hotel! Whether you're here for a night or still live here, MTT Resort prides itself on a great stay! Just passing through...? Nice! MTT Resort prides itself on being passed through!"

"Interesting business model. Does it work?"

"Oh, indeed it does, human."

"You know what I am?"

"Oh yes! The staff has been informed of your coming and instructed on how to handle you upon arrival."

Oh god, what now?

"Over on your left, we have a dine-in restaurant complete with a stage which hosts a wide cast of live acts. Either comedy done by locals or Mettaton entertains when he isn't too busy."

"Neat."

"If you're feeling like you hate yourself, behind me is the MTT-Brand Burger Emporium, home of the Dazzleburger!"

Well, they know how fast food works.

"All further questions can be taken to my coworker behind the desk."

I scratch my head and shrug.

"Thanks."

I walk away and head for the other receptionist. It's not a bad-looking lobby at least. Red & yellow checkered tiles and the rug from outside continues forward into parts unknown. The obnoxious fountain of Mettaton is gaudy though. I reach the desk and the monster behind it is a weird one. It's blue and its head is a hand with very well manicured red nails.

"Yes, we know. The elevator music volume is super loud and the song is stuck on a three-second loop. We are working on it. Because of this incident, rooms are running at a special rate! 200G a room. Interested?"

Someone sounds grumpy.

"No thank you. I was told to come to you. I'm the human if that helps."

Their head fingers extend in alert.

"Oh! Sorry. I was instructed to inform you on where to go next."

"That would be helpful, yes."

It motions to where the rug is heading.

"If you follow the rug there, you'll be lead out back to the entrance of the CORE. Mettaton will be waiting for you at the top."

"Could I use the elevator instead? All this travel is exhausting."

"No can do. The elevator leads to the Capital and main residence of our people. You're not allowed to go there."

"Oh...That's fine. I didn't want to go there. Just trying to take shortcuts if able."

"*ahem* If you require a small rest, might I suggest renting a room?"

"I don't the gold, sorry."

"That's fine. Mettaton has pre-paid a room for you. One time only."

I'm stunned. Damn him! Why does he confuse me so much?! I want to like and hate him at the same time!

"Um...In that case, sure. Where are rooms?"

They motion again.

"Down the hall to the right."

I wait for them to give me a key or card but nothing is there except awkwardness.

"Is there a problem?"

"No...not really. But...uh...Isn't this the part you give me a room key?"

"What? Room...Key? No, we don't do that. If you leave your room, you'll have to pay again."

So if I enter I can't leave or else I'll have to pay? That's insane!

"On second thought, maybe later."

"Shame. Do let us know if you change your mind. Have a sparkular day!"

I'm getting the feeling they're being nice because they were told to be. Otherwise, I doubt I'd be given such a warm welcome. Oh well. Time to pay a certain someone a visit.

I stroll up to the emporium and find myself paused. I can go about this in many ways. The different choices and outcomes play out in my head super fast. After a few, I settle on something...something that'll leave an impression. I push the doors open. A digital bell sounds. I look at what appears to be a sadder version of McDonald's. And like a mindless corporate drone, he speaks while moping the floor before seeing "who" just walked in.

"Welcome to MTT-Brand Burger Emporium, home of the Dazzleburger. Sparkle up your day (TM)."

He begins to turn around.

"What can I do to..."

His eyes widen seeing me, grinning sadistically at him like a lunatic.

"Uh...help?"

This hurts my throat to do, but it really sells this whole thing. I deepen my voice to imitate Dr. Claw from Inspector Gadget and just laugh. He is unnerved to say the least.

"*menacing* No one will help you."

"H-Hey now...Don't think of doing anything funny."

I walk up to him and he backs away slowly before leaping behind the counter.

"Stay back! You can't hurt anyone in shops!"

I keep the deep voice.

"*menacing* Hurt you? Foolish boy...Why would I do that? It's not like you put a cigarette out on my wrist and bashed my head with a bat!"

That last part was done a bit too harsh and I end coughing. All seriousness leaves.

"*coughs* Nah, man...*normal* I ain't gonna do anything. For reals. I was just messing with ya."

He eyes me funny.

"Riiiiiight...What do you want then?"

"Preferably, my phone."

He flinches, his eyes looking quickly down then darting back up.

"I..."

"Metta doesn't have to know."

"What do you mean he won't know?! He knows everything that goes on here!"

"Look, you either give me my phone, or I'm gonna go back there and take it."

"You're not seri..."

My dead stare shuts him up. He seems to freeze up now. I sneer and put my hand out. He looks at my hand and then starts sweating. I'm beginning to lose my patience.

"You have five seconds."

His fur stands on end and he suddenly slams his face on the countertop, giving himself a bloody nose.

"Sorry, (Ha ha) it's against the rules to talk to customers who haven't bought anything. And talking with you this long has put me in serious shit. If you want this 'exchange' to continue, you're going to make a purchase."

I'm not happy.

"...What do you have?"

[60G - Sorebet - Very popular food.]

[120G - Dazzleburger - Very popular food.]

[300G - Mythical Villain - Anti-Hero Sandwich. ATTACK UP in battle.]

[500G - Biltong Slab designed to look like Mettaton - Don't ask. Please.]

I huff through my nose and shell out the 60G.

"That Sorebet better come with my phone."

"Yeah yeah. Don't get your panties in a twist."

"Fuck you. I wear boxers."

He eyes me with a blush before heading into the back. Might as well chat him up while I can.

"So...Do you know the chicks behind the building?"

"Huh? Oh...Them. Yeah, I know them. What of it?"

"They were talking about you."

"The girls were...Talking about me...?"

Hooked him.

"They mentioned you threw burgers at them and ran."

"Bullshit! That is not what happened."

He comes back to the counter with a glass of frozen dessert and my phone.

"Care to enlighten me?"

He sighs and lights a cigarette. I wonder if he can do that while on shift?

"Never interact with attractive people. Unless you're 'one of them', they're just gonna take advantage of you. Those two chicks asked me to sneak them some Dazzleburgers. And I, the naive teenager that I was, said yes to them. Bad idea."

"What happened?"

He takes a dag and lifts the collar of his uniform shirt open, blowing the smoke in there.

"Does that really keep the smoke from spreading?"

"It's worked so far. *puff* So I went out to the alley to see those two ladies, and uh...you know, see what'd happen next."

"Like...Naughty stuff?"

"...Maybe."

"Nice."

He blushes.

"Anyway...Then my boss comes out of nowhere, sees me, and demands to know what I was doing. I was so startled, the hamburgers in my pockets tumbled out onto the ground. Not wanting to lose face to the girls, I scrambled to pick them up! But, as I was bending down, the weight of the remaining hamburgers...*puff*...caused my pants to fall down."

He expected me to mock him. But I can't feel anything more than pity for the guy. This surprises him and he continues his story.

"Then the girls laughed at me. Everyone calls me Burgerpants now. It's gotten to the point I can't remember my name half of the time. It's even on my name tag for fuck's sake!"

Poor douche cat.

"I think you're the first to not laugh at me or that story."

"Why would I laugh? That's...That's messed up, man."

He takes another drag.

"You know something...I misjudged you, human. I know it ain't much, but, I'm sorry for being an ass."

I rub the back of my head.

"I'll be honest, guy...Since the bar thing, I've seen you only as a prick. The idea of you having hard times and lashing out didn't cross my mind at all. That's my bad right there. Sorry on my part for being a bitch."

He smirks.

"So...You're really not going to tell Mettaton about this?"

He hands me my phone.

"Dude, this stays between us. Besides, he's kinda been pissing me off lately."

"Yeah, he does that."

He takes a deep drag before putting the cigarette out on the bottom of his shoe.

"Can I give you some advice? I'm getting on in years, so take it from me...You've still got time. Don't live like me. I'm 19 years old and I've already wasted my entire life. I'll probably be trapped at this stupid job forever. But wait! There's one thing that keeps me going! If ASGORE gets just one more SOUL, we'll finally get to go to the surface! It'll be a brand new world! There's gotta be a second chance out there for me! For everyone!"

"Maybe. So, what did you want to do before this?"

"Oh...I wanted to be an ACTOR."

"Neat."

"When I first came to Hotland, it was my dream to work with Mettaton. Well, be careful what you wish for! God, look what that idiot has done here. This place is a labyrinth of bad choices. And every time we try to change something for the better, he vetoes it and says that's not how they do it on the surface. Oh! Right! Humans are always eating hamburgers made of RHINESTONES AND GLITTER."

"...I can assure you we don't eat that. Eating that would be very bad for our health. Maybe even fatal. Monsters don't really eat that...Do they?"

His eyes shift and I facepalm.

"And you guys think I'm gonna hurt ya?"

"You should probably get going. The boss will get his gears in a bunch if you take too long getting to the CORE."

"Fine."

I put the Sorebet in my inventory and remember my awkward side-quest.

"Oh! Before I bounce, can you help me with something?"

He tilts his head.

"What?"

"The chicks, Bratty and Catty, they have items I want but don't have the crazy amount of gold. They say they'll trade for a mega value pack. Any way you might be able to help make this trade happen?"

He sighs.

"Really? Do you know how much that is?"

"1300G close? Because that's how much I need."

"...What kind of shit are they selling that's worth that much?!"

I goofily shrug. He groans and rubs his face.

"I can't just give you that much for free."

"Catty thinks your cute."

"...For real?"

I nod. He fidgets, fingers tip-tapping and pitter-pattering.

"Okay, I'll tell you what...You score me a hook up with her and I'll give you the burgers."

Damn you rule of three in side-quests!

"Argh...I guess I can try. It won't be the weirdest thing I do today but it is on the list though."

His eyes light up with excitement. I can't mess this up now. How often does he actually smile like this?

"Thank you! *ahem* I mean...Cool."

I slink out of the emporium and head for the exit.

"Um, excuse me, human...The CORE is the other way."

I groan.

"I know. I'll be back."

Exit building, go into the creepy alley, and meet the girls again.

"Look who's back."

"Do you have the Dazzleburgers?"

I show my empty hands.

"Ha! I knew she'd blow it."

"Sucks to be you!"

"Hold up. He'll give me the goods. But..."

"But...?"

"Catty...Do you really think he's cute? 'Cause he thinks you're hot."

Catty's face flushes. Bratty rolls her eyes.

"For reals? He wants a date?"

"A date? A hangout? A simple meeting while he's working? I don't know. For all I know she can walk in, say hi, and that's it. All I need is confirmation and you get all those shiny burgers."

"Yes!"

"Catty...?"

"What a deal! A cute guy and free food! It's the score of a lifetime!"

"Catty, he's a loser. You hang out with him once, then he wants to hang out... All. The. Time."

"But don't you feel bad for him, Bratty? Poor Burgerpants...Think about how cool we are compared to him!!! We'd be saving his LIFE with our awesomeness!! His LIFE, Bratty!!"

"Uh, so?"

"Think of all the Dazzleburgers he could get for us!!"

And just like that, I feel like shit for doing this.

"...So is he free after work?"

"*huff* I'll be back...again."

Leave the alley, enter the building, meet up with Burgerpants.

"I don't like the look you have there. Did she say no?"

I can't lie to this guy.

"Dude, I'm really uncomfortable with this."

"What's wrong?"

"She said yes. But..."

"She said YES?!"

"I mean, she agreed, but please listen..."

"Ha! Ahahaha!! Yes!!! You've brought a tear to the eye of this old man."

I feel so bad.

"Dude, please...I'm, like, 100% sure she's gonna use you for free food and maybe gold."

"...So?"

I'm taken back.

"Look, you don't think I didn't think of that? I know she's probably going to use me. Everyone does. If it's for the food, I don't care. That's just another way I can stick it to my boss. Speaking of..."

He plops this cardboard case down on the counter.

"A deal's a deal. The mega value pack for the girl."

...Okay, they're made for each other. Everyone here is trash!

"So, uh, what time did she say she wanted to hang out?"

I hate everything about this!!

"I'll be back again."

Take food, leave, exit, alley. At this point, I nearly shove the shit at them.

"Oh my God!"

"Is that the mega value pack Dazzleburgers?"

"OH MY GOD!!! GIMME!!!"

"God, Catty. Try to have some self-control."

"Sorry..."

"'Cause they OBVIOUSLY brought the Dazzleburgers for ME."

"NO WAYYY!!!!!"

I point to the items.

"Trade. Now."

Bratty puts the key and gun into the hat before handing it over to me.

"Thank you."

I put the key in my inventory and equip the other two.

[You equipped the Tattered Western Hat]

[You gain 12 Defense and 5 Attack]

[This battle-worn hat makes you want to crew on straw for some reason. It also raises attack by 5.]

[You equipped the Rusty Revolver]

[You gain 12 Attack]

[An super old gun. It has no ammo. Must be used precisely, or damage will be low. Duh.]

[HP: 40 ATK: 62 DEF: 50]

I am becoming OP!!

"Oh! Give burger-boy this!"

Catty hands me a scrap of paper with her number.

"Fine. I'm just glad this is done."

Back to Burgerpants. I slap the paper down.

"Here's her number. I hope you don't regret this."

His face contorts in a weird way...Is he...Happy?

Sweet! I need to pick a spicy outfit for my little shindig later. Though, now that I think about it, I had to throw away all of my clothes to make room for the outfits Mettaton gave me."

"...What?"

"Don't take it the wrong way. They're just all these...Weird getups. 'Promotional' costumes. For 'holidays'. Or 'specials'. Or 'because he felt like it'. The thing IS though! Most of the time I'm the only employee who has to wear this stuff! Sometimes he even calls me into his office just to...Make me put something on...Then he laughs and lets me go back to work as normal."

My pity meter is breaking.

"Anyways, I won't sweat it. I'll take it casual. NEVER let hot people think you care. That's how they GET you."

And the pity meter dropped dead.

"Good luck with that."

I leave on that note. Fuck this resort. Fuck this quest plot. Fuck this whole damn thing!

Wanting this shit show to be over and done with, I do as instructed by following the rug's path out some doors that have a giant sign above that says "CORE". Lazy-ass designers, I swear.

Weirdly this leads to a balcony. A balcony that has been opened and a walkway built that connects to the massive facility. The light from the resort barely shows half of the path as the CORE itself surprisingly gives off the faintest glow. The CORE is an entirely mechanical complex that is largely black and yellow with red accents. The blah colors aside, what gets my attention are the two monsters that were minding the entrance that slip inside when I show up. I don't like this.

"Flowey, you better be able to get here. I have a bad feeling about this."

Approaching shows more of this crazy thing. The CORE appears to be the most industrial and modern region of the Underground. Ozone, a byproduct of electrical power, is omnipresent below the floor level of the CORE. This could mean the CORE might be made of stainless steel, titanium, or platinum; as ozone is highly corrosive to most organic materials. If this is the case, they could use this stuff. The CORE could be a source of ozonated water, which cleans clothes, sanitizes food, and purifies drinking water. This also implies this might be the greatest source of oxygen in the Underground as ozone simply decomposes into oxygen at high concentrations and temperatures. The only hazard I can think of is that oxygen is a shitty thing to breathe. Breathing pure oxygen at high pressures can cause nausea, dizziness, muscle twitching, vision loss, convulsions, and loss of consciousness. Breathing pure oxygen for a long time can irritate the lungs causing coughing and/or shortness of breath. Higher exposure may cause a build-up of fluid in the lungs and subsequent death. Guess how much more O2 is needed to do this to a person? 20% more. God, Humans are so freaking weak. I'll need to be careful here.

The lobby of the CORE has an elevator to the north and two paths to the left and right. Not a bad looking place, very lavishly decorated, the floors are engraved with intricate patterns and multicolored neon tubes serve as wall ornaments and embellishments. I check the elevator, which is disabled, I'm not shocked at this point. Not much else to do, I go to the path on the right, which turns out to be a small room with a square platform overlooking a pit of fire. Not bad. I do enjoy looking at fire. It's pretty. Moving on! Going through the left path leads to a rectangular stretch of wall-less hallway with a doorway at the end.

"Hmmm...My bullshit senses are tingling. I'm willing to bet a random encounter/ambush is about to happen."

As if cued by my words, something cracks the back of my head and then hits my gut as I turn.

"*wheeze* Called it..."

My attacker appears and my dull cracked purple soul is forced out to play.

[Madjick pops out of its hat!]

Madjick has a typical appearance of a wizard. It wears a curved wizard hat, a pair of boots, and two rotating orbs emitting cross-shaped particles. Madjick has a sly smile on its face, but a pair of bright eyes are hidden just under its hat.

[FIGHT]

[ACT]

[̴͝SP͜͞E͡L̵͜L͟͠͏]͘͢

[ITEM]

[MERCY]

I wonder if SPELL will work on this thing? ...N-No. No. Can't chance it. Stick to normal tactics.

[ACT selected.]

[New options available.]

[CHECK]

[TALK]

[STARE]

[CLEAR MIND]

...The fuck kind of options are these?!

[CHECK selected.]

[MADJICK – HP: 190 ATK: 29 DEF: 24 – This enemy can only speak in magic words.]

Finally! My states aren't shit compared to my attacker. Also, only speaks in magic words is the most fucking adorable thing I've ever heard.

"Abra cadabra."

An orb spawns off to my left and rapid-fires crosses at me. I dodge and the orb tries to cut me off by going where I'm headed. It fires about eight times and moving around is not so great.

[HP ████████████████ 16/40]

Thank goodness my defense got increased during all this crap. I could've been really messed up.

[Madjick flaunts its orbs in a menacing manner.]

It snickers.

"A smug one. I like that."

[TALK selected.]

"You know...I can do magic too."

It looks at me intrigued.

"Yep. I can make your smile disappear."

It pauses before sneering at me.

"See? I made it vanish before your very eyes!"

It didn't seem to like my humor.

"Hocus pocus."

[Madjick begins chattering to itself. Its gibberish dizzies you...Your DEFENSE drops by 1.]

My head feels fuzzy. Did it just jinx me? Are there more types of magic than what I've been told?

One of the orbs begins to chase me while deploying harmful but immobile crosses. Yet due to the jinx, my sense of direction is ass-backward. Left is right and right is left. Up is down and down is up. However...much to Madjick's dismay...I'm used to being incredibly dizzy. My childhood was filled with countless hours of boredom appeased by spinning around till I couldn't see straight.

[HP ████████████████████ 20/40]

Ha ha...Suck on those magic balls, wizard-boy!

"*slur* Is that what you call magic? Boo! Disappointed!"

[Madjick whispers arcane swear words.]

"*slur* Oh...Someone needs to put some gold in the swear jar. I'm gonna tattle!"

It growls.

"Eh eh eh. It's not your turn."

I slap my face a few times.

[CLEAR MIND selected.]

"I wonder where Flowey is?"

[You think of pollen and sunshine. Your confusion abates. Your DEFENSE increased by 2.]

"...What?"

"Alakazam!!"

It tries to surprise me with that following orb trick. But now that I know that move it's not so bad.

[HP ██████████████████████████ 26/40]

Huh? Am I auto-healing faster? Sweet! Surely that only means good things for me.

[Madjick peers at you with strange eyes.]

"What? You scared? My sick moves and auto-healing too much for you? No worries, wizard-dude, we cool. I got you."

The hell did I just say? Am I magic high? Fuck it.

[MERCY selected.]

[New options available.]

[FLEE]

[SPARE]

[SPARE selected.]

It looks at me funny. Then it looks at my HP.

[HP ████████████████████████████████ 32/40]

It flinches.

"Please and thank you."

Madjick accepts my act of mercy.

[YOU WON!]

[You earned 0 XP and 120 gold.]

The fight ends, my soul returns to my body and I give my opponent claps of approval.

"Good show, buddy. Keep up the good work."

It seems confused but nods, hovering away behind me towards the exit.

"Well...That was weird."

My head still feels odd. Nothing a few brain sloshing shakes of the old noggin won't fix. Anyway, no time to question strange feelings or whatever. I gotta get through this so I can get back to Toriel. Onwards I go.

Continuing forward, I enter a room with a bridge that is cut off by a tesla coil. Wow. Hadn't seen that in a long ass time. How much do I wanna bet there's a convenient off switch nearby. Oh, look! A super obvious switch right there on the wall. Who could've ever had guessed! I flip the switch and lasers fire at me! First blue, then blue again, and orange. Thankfully they're slow, so once I triggered the first blue laser I easily hit the deck to avoid the others that pass by.

"Setting booby traps on top of other traps now. Geez, Metta, I'm starting to think you don't like me very much. Well, that's fine. I don't like me either! So come at me already and quit this pussy bullshit!"

Calm down. No need to get riled up. Get through this and go home. Then I can just stuff my face with Nanny's awesome cheesecake and pass out happy. I march on, doing my best not to look down or notice how some of the walls and floors are chipped away. Now I'm paranoid about if any other laser that turns up is functional or decorative.

The path leads into a crossroads with a path to my left and a path straight ahead. My bullshit sense is tingling when I look at the left path. Straight ahead it is.

This room contains a bridge with many blue and orange lasers followed by a massive wall of blue lasers.

"Nope. Just nope. Screw the rules! I have plot armor importance and common sense!"

Fuck this outfit. Fuck this shit! I have lost all my fucks! I get down on the floor and combat crawl the long as fuck cold metal catwalk.

"*muttering* Stupid bullshit. Why do I have to be nice? If I wasn't nice, I wouldn't have to put up with shit like this. Bitches don't end up in laser catwalk traps. But no...I have to be a decent person. *getting louder* I have to be a good girl. I have to not give in to the overwhelming urge to punch assholes for being assholes because that's wrong for dumb reasons! *shouting* Why am I pissing myself off?! This is extremely counterproductive given my current situation! Fuck!!"

I blame all this on Mettaton. That's a healthy way to look at it. Probably not. But I'm not a mental health doctor! The fuck do I know?! After crossing the bridge, I storm grumpily along another walkway only to reach something called "Core Branch".

Turns out the "Core Branch" is a four-way intersection. Fan-fucking-tastic. Man, my mood is fucking sour. Maybe the digital sign can be useful and give me directions.

[North, the warrior's path. West, the sage's path. Any path leads to The End.]

"*growling* This is so...FUCKING STUPID!!"

Nope. Not falling for anymore of this. I choose neither side and go straight. This middle path of the "Core Branch" has me entering a vertical room with a right path leading to the eastern portion of the "Core Branch". There's nothing to my left. It just drops into the ozone, so it's certain death. I'm so sure this place followed all safety measures. There is a sign on the wall that is telling me to "Get lost...And stay that way".

"Wha...Why have signs telling me to leave when you told me to come here?! Stupid metal moron giving me dumb mixed messages."

I hate everything. No monster better encounter me while I'm in this mood. I take out a gold piece and flip it. Heads for straight and tails for the right. It lands on tails so right I go. This has to be the stupidest designed building ever! What the hell was Gaster thinking?! Was he on the drugs? Because this seems like he was on the drugs! 'Cause now I'm at another four-way crossroads. Only now I have two digital signs.

[To the East! This is The End.]

[I cannot fight. I cannot think. But, with patience, I will make my way through.]

A third, and hopefully final, tesla coil blocks what has been established as the exit. This means there's a switch somewhere. F that shit. Know what? You know what'll piss everyone off? I'm gonna do what that sign said. I'm going to be patient. Because if I know Mettaton, and I know massive egos very well, he won't want boring content to be televised and eventually spice things up. I plop my edgy tush under the sign and...wait. Using this time to chill. Let this negativity go and...

*Clank-clank-clank*

Oh hell no!

A large monster ominously approaches. Knight Knight is a monster that wields a great staff with a sun symbol in her right hand. She wears a suit of black armor and what resembles a horned helmet with a crescent moon emblazoned on her forehead. The helmet's eyepiece occasionally widens and un-widens as if it is her mouth. Her torso is dominated by a dragon face whose beak occasionally opens and closes, revealing a small eye. It is unclear whether which face is the true face.

"Let me guess...You're here to make me move?"

"Yes."

"No."

She's confused.

"...No?"

"Did I stutter? I'm not moving."

She readies her spear.

"Then prepare for..."

"Let me stop you right there. I get that you're doing your job and following the law, and blah blah blee bloo, whatever. I have been through one of THE worst days in my life. My mind, soul, and charitable goodwill have been pushed to limits that are very VERY thin now. I am in no mood to deal with any more crap. So I'm going to say this once because I ain't fighting you or moving from this spot till this electrical blockaded is gone...Turn around and go home."

She doesn't take me seriously and laughs.

"Heh heh...You have no power to give me orders, human."

She takes a step closer and I snap.

"I͏͟ ̧̀̕W͝IL͘͡L̴ ̶Ŗ͟͜I͝҉P͘ ̵O͜F̧F̛͞ ̸̀Y̧͡O̡͢U̡͠R ͠H̸EA̶͏D͏͢ ̸̕A͜N͢D S̢̛͜Ḩ̶Į͢T̵̕ ͝D̶̀OW͞N̷̴͠ ҉͞Ý̸̢O̡͡U̡͢R ̸ŅE̴͝CḰ̡̧!͞͞!̧͢"

She stumbles back in shock. The strange energy sparks off me. I regret everything.

"I̵'͘͟͏ḿ͢͞ ̧̕͞so̧̨͡r̴̢ŗ̷͜y̧.̵̛.̢͞.̛p̢l͝ea̷se͢.͟.́͢.leave me. I'm so sorry."

I seem to have disturbed her. She slowly steps back and turns around when she's convinced I'm not going to move.

"Adieu...Human."

She leaves me and I let out a shaky exhale. It's getting worse. I'm losing control. I can't do this for much longer. I haven't been given any proper time to deal with this shit. My internal bottle has been shaken too much! It's going to explode! I...I...

"What the heck was that?!"

Flowey pops up beside me and I'm too freaked out to be startled.

"Sis? What's wrong?"

I hold myself in an attempt to squeeze into a tiny ball of self-loathing. This only worries him more.

"Lynsie?"

I...I can't...I need a break. If only I had my music. I could drown out all this. Lose myself in the lyrics.

"B-Bro..."

"Yes? Talk to me. I can help. Tell me what you need."

"...H-How fast can you get to Snowdin?"

He frowns.

"You want me to get 'him', don't you?"

All I can do is nod.

"I...I can help too. You don't have to turn to him."

My eyes dart to the blocked path. He puts things together. He is a smart boy after all.

"True. Mettaton is that way and the room his encounter takes place in is an elevating platform. I can stretch from my roots pretty far but not THAT far."

He pouts.

"*huff* I guess there's no other option. He does have experience helping you out when things get bad. And he can teleport."

I feel bad that I'm making him do this...again. Like in the dead timeline.

"I...I'm sorry."

"Wha...N-No! Don't apologize. I understand. You're worried. It's okay. We'll get through this. Family helps family. What kind of big brother would I be if I didn't do everything to help? Even if that means getting others to help when I can't."

"...I need a hug...please?"

It pains me to see him hesitate. But vines come out to wrap around me for a bit.

"Thank you."

The vines retract and he extends to nuzzle my cheek.

"It won't be like last time. I promise. You won't kill anyone. No one's going to die."

"H-How do you know?"

"Because you're strong. You just have to believe in yourself. I know I do."

...I needed that. I give him a smile.

"There we go. There's my sis. Now keep that smile. I'll get Smiley Trashbag and we'll be back home with mom in no time."

He really is too sweet for this world. He sinks into the floor and I forgot to ask how he was able to get through this floor. I mean, I guess he said he can get through cement so metal can't be too far of a long shot. Asriel sure is a super strong boy even as a flower.

*BUZZ*

The power to the coil suddenly is shut off remotely like I so knew it could be. Damn it. I was hoping to have more time. How impatient is Mettaton for this? Reluctantly, I get up and walk down this new road. Halfway along this bridge, I am blocked by three vaguely familiar monsters that look like tougher versions of monsters I see in the Ruins.

Final Froggit has spike-like protrusions on its head and eyelids, accompanied by a crown-like muff on top of its head. Its lips are marked with lines, as though wrinkled from age. Its "shoulders" are decorated with sharp excrescents, while the silhouette between its legs forms a face with a triangular smile and cross eyes.

Whimsalot has a more human-like appearance than Whimsun. Also, its antennae are thicker, and there is a muff on their head that branches in two. Whimsalot's appearance is also accompanied by a double-bladed spear and a knight mask. Its ghost-like torso is skinnier and shorter.

Astigmatism's body consists of a large ball and four spiked limbs. The ball is accompanied by two "horns" on each side. When idle, a large eye can be seen on the ball also with three eyelashes. However, it changes from this face to another where the eye hollow is changed with a smile. When having its eye closed, the two side eyelashes become Astigmatism's eyes, while the middle one simply becomes a marking.

I don't know what I must look like to them. Probably dreadful. Because they move aside with not a word being side. I nod in thanks, proceeding to the end which for all I know might be the most tragic moment of my life second to Grillby dying. No! Stop it! Do as Flowey said. Smile. Stay chipper. Think of something silly. Like how dumb this place is. Honestly, was Gaster high making this place? I'll have to ask him later. Nah...I'll ask Sans. Less hassle.

The bridge comes to an end, leading to a shadowy doorway and an elevator that probably would've been super handy but was out of order to pad out the length of this bullshit subplot. Augh...It's so much easier to think my life is a fictional story or internet abridge series. It's the only way my brain allows most of this crap to make any sense.

"So this is it, huh? The epic conclusion of this grand show. Heh...I want to feel accomplished for making it this far. Almost. But all I do feel is..."

I can't finish my sentence. The weight I thought I got off my back earlier begins pressing on me again.

"Nothing...I feel nothing. *sniffling* Damn it...Don't fucking cry!"

With a breakdown seconds away from happening, I enter the doorway to the room of darkness and a door shuts behind me then locks. There is no going back now.

Please...I made a promise...Please...Don't make me have to RESET...Please...I'm begging...Please...

[betweenthetimeandsound]

Three Minutes to Eternity: My ESC 250 (#180-171)

#180: Fernando Tordo -- Tourada (Portugal 1973)

“Entram guizos, chocas e capotes, E mantilhas pretas, Entram espadas, chifres e derrotes, E alguns poetas, Entram bravos, cravos e dichotes, Porque tudo mais são tretas,”

“Bells, cowbells and capes are coming in, And black mantillas Swords, big horns and defeats are coming in And some poets Brave people, carnations and swear words are coming in Because it's a wheeze at most”

Despite the title ("tourada" translates to bullfight in Portuguese), it's actually a portrait of a revolution in the making. The lyrics were so clever that the censors at the RTP didn’t notice these lyrics were reflecting the current regime.

That’s enough for a 250 appearance for me, but there’s more that makes the song so memorable.

The build with the brass and percussion sets the stage for something important to happen. Sometimes, I do forget I like this song, but listening to it like right now is an experience, like one entering the battlefield.

The last line, "And the intelligent man says that songs are over..." still amuses me, though it's quite cynical in that the intellectuals would eventually not believe in the movement.

Personal ranking: 5th/17 Actual ranking: 10th/17 in Luxembourg

#179: France Gall -- Poupée de cire, poupée de son (Luxembourg 1965)

“Suis-je meilleure, suis-je pire qu’une poupée de salon? Je vois la vie en rose bonbon Poupée de cire, poupée de son”

“Am I better, am I worse than a fashion doll? I see life through bright rosy-tinted glasses Wax doll, sawdust doll”

One of the game-changing songs of Eurovision, in that the general mood shifts from slow-tempo songs to a little bit of pop. The first ten contests had their share of good songs, but seem to blur into each other at points. Afterwards, the song quality rose, and they were better suited to the times.

Beyond the happy orchestral sound is something quite sad—a pretty girl who sings songs without experiencing what they mean. Gainsbourg was quite the songwriter, but it led to a falling out between him and France later on, because of the double meanings of the songs he wrote for her.

The drama related to France Gall and the contest didn't stop there. Kathy Kirby, the runner-up that year, slapped France when she won. Then her boyfriend broke up with her shortly after, and wrote a song that would be the basis of "My Way".

Quite interesting I must say, though I don’t come back to this song often.

Personal and actual ranking: 1st/18 in Naples

#178: Ajda Pekkan -- Petr'oil (Turkey 1980)

"Öyle gururlusun gidemem yanına Girmişsin kim bilir kaç aşığın kanına Dolardan, marktan başka laf çıkmaz dilinden Neler, neler çekiyorum senin elinden"

"You are so proud, I can’t come close to you I wonder who else suffers from your love You speak of nothing but dollars and marks I am so suffering because of you"

My 1980 winner is not only quite groovy and seductive, but also clever.

The 1970s had two major oil crises--one in 1973, and another in 1979. The first one was when OPEC withheld their oil from countries who supported Israel during the Yom Kippur, and the second one when oil production stopped during the Iranian Revolution, resulting in higher prices per barrel. Both resulted in low supply and increased gas prices in the United States; those who grew up during the era were less likely to drive as a result.

Petr'oil takes this issue and anthromorphizes it, as Ajda sings about the troubles of relying oil as a resource and as a partner. The belly-dance music also emphasizes the tension. combined with the percussion and strings on this piece.

While Ajda has since distanced herself from the song, I embrace it in all its charms. Plus it was heavily underrated in its year.

Personal ranking: 1st/19 Actual ranking: 15th/19 in Den Haag

Final Impressions on 1980: This year stands out a bit, for it had a number of songs dealing with a huge number of topics (including Belgium's "Euro-Vision", which made the contest go meta, haha). Alongside it, the production was a bit bare-bones, because of the Netherlands hosting it four years earlier, but it featured quirks such as a representative announcing their country's song, Morocco competing for the only time, and a steel band for the interval!

#177: The Allisons -- Are you sure? (United Kingdom 1961)

“Are you sure you won’t be sorry? Comes tomorrow, you won’t want me Back again to hold you tightly?”

The lyrics are quite smug, in that the Allisons warn the girl who plans to break up with them she might be sorry and alone. Not unlike with "If I Were Sorry", though there's a bit more charm and teasing towards their soon-to-be ex-, whereas the latter feels a bit more arrogant.

That said, it’s upbeat and almost lines up to the musical scene at the time (comparisons to Buddy Holly are not uncommon), and the musical run time just goes by so quickly (in comparison to other entries of the same era)! It's just a breeze.

Personal ranking: 1st/16 Actual ranking: 2nd/16 in Cannes

#176: Vicky Leandros: L'amour est bleu (Luxembourg 1967)

“Bleu, bleu, l'amour est bleu, Berce mon cœur, mon cœur amoureux, Bleu, bleu, l'amour est bleu, Bleu comme le ciel qui joue dans tes yeux.”

“Blue, blue, love is blue, Cradle my heart, my loving heart Blue, blue, love is blue Blue like the sky which play in your eyes."”

I think I first heard this in the intro to Eurovision 2006's semi-final. While the harp motif stood out, I didn't know where it came from. It was until when I watched the contest this song was in, which is strange because it was notable for having a Paul Mauriat cover which became a hit.

One of many classics which featured in 1960s contests, I like the innocence shown through the lyrics, which uses color and imagery to tell about the different cycles of love. The orchestration along the bridge was especially spectacular, as it provided a cinematic feel towards . Vicky’s accent sometimes gets in the way, but she sings this well and should’ve gotten a podium position.

Personal ranking: 2nd/17 Actual ranking: 4th/17 in Vienna

#175: Kaija -- Ullu joy Hullu yö (Finland 1991)

"En edes halunnut sua omistaa En edes leikisti rakastaa Kaksi kulkijaa yhteen osuttiin Yksi yhteinen hetki jaettiin"

"I didn’t even want to own you I didn’t even want to love you We two travellers came across each other Shared one common moment together"

While I was watching Eurovision 1991, I liked the mysterious verses of Hullu yo, but I found the chorus a bit off, because it was punchier and more energetic. It also had that "minor-verse/major chorus" thing going on, which also made me uneasy with the song. With a few listens, I grew to like a bit more, because of its unique sound. It definitely sounds better with the studio cut versus the live, which shows off the failures of RAI's orchestra.

Another thing about the song, beyond its lyrics about a one-night-stand turned into longing feelings, was the choice choreography. Playing out the turmoiled relationship, it's funny to see how provocative it is, and that's after Toto's hilarious pronunciation of the song.

Elements of the live performance aside, it's still a jam which deserved better. Maybe it would've done so in the televote era.

Personal ranking: 7th/22 Actual ranking: 20th/22 in Rome

#174: Francoise Hardy -- L'amour s'en va (Monaco 1963)

“Si ce n’est toi Ce sera moi qui m’en irai L’amour s’en va Et nous n’y pourrons rien changer"

"If it isn’t you It will be me who will go away Love goes away And we can’t change anything about that"

I was happily surprised hearing this for the first time. It was very melancholic, with an interesting structure between the verses and the chorus. The percussion also helps with the latter, and adds a bit of character to the song.

The fact Francoise wrote this classic gem also warmed me up more to the song, especially because she was from the ye-ye generation of singers (which are known for being young and upbeat). Yet she stands and sings her own composition in a serious, almost bored tone, without taking the substance of the song away

(That being said, I really need to listen to more of her songs; I've found a couple a month ago, though there's obviously more...)

Personal ranking: 2nd/16 Actual ranking: 5th/16 in London

#173: ABBA -- Waterloo (Sweden 1974)

“The history book on the shelf is always repeating itself...”

You don’t need me to tell about this, do you? It’s fun and timeless pop, with some cool costumes to boot.

For more interesting stuff for both, the song Waterloo was an actual risk for the contest--they actually had another song for consideration, the folk-influenced Hasta Manana, but turned to this instead. And it worked, of course!

For the clothes, ABBA apparently chose these glam-rock inspired costumes because in Sweden, one wouldn't have to pay additional fees if the costumes won't be used for normal wear. Both Anni-frid and Agnetha look great, nevertheless.

And as of the moment, my favorite ABBA song is "Knowing Me, Knowing You". Despite the poppy tone, it has a moody vibe throughout, and one knows the relationship is going to end on a bad note.

Personal ranking: 2nd/17 Actual ranking: 1st/17 in Brighton

#172: Gigliola Cinquetti -- Si (Italy 1974)

“Sì, dolcemente dissi sì, Per provare un'emozione, Che non ho avuto mai,”

“Yes, I softly said yes, To feel an emotion That I've never had before”

My friend told me an interesting story about the lyrics—whereas the song Gigliola won with tells of a girl waiting to grow older to find true love, Si talks of the girl growing up and taking the plunge. So she interprets Si as a sequel of sorts.

So why does this beat Waterloo, in my opinion?

I like how the song starts—quietly, but with an interesting guitar part. The instrumentation builds well towards the "Si...", at which it gently but certainly blooms towards Gigliola's certainty on going with the man she loves.

The interesting part of it was how the song was censored in Italy because it was seen as "subliminal messaging" for a campaign on a divorce referendum that May. "Si" sounds like an endorsement for the "no" campaign, as it embraces being in love, even if it requires the death of another relationship.

Personal ranking: 1st/17 Actual ranking: 2nd/17 in Brighton

Final Impressions on 1974: Definitely one of the most memorable years in the contest, if only for who won. The rest was a tale of two halves, with the first half being particularly good, and the other half bad (except for Si, as you can tell). And there were Wombles in the interval act, hehe.

#171: Eugent Bushpepa -- Mall (Albania 2018)

“Lot i patharë ndriçojë këtë natë Sonte kumbo prej shpirtit pa fjalë Vetëm një çast dhimbja të më ndalë”

“Lingering tear, light up this night Find your way out, to soothe my soul Just for one day make this pain subside”

Aren’t the lyrics to this so beautiful? They convey Eugent’s desire to be with his loved one so well, in both its pain and beauty.

The music really helps too--while the pre-vamped version was a whole minute longer, it also has a rockier edge to it. The revamped version cuts it down and cleans up the production, but it's still maintains the overall feel throughout.

Eugent is also a talented talented singer, which proved initial odds wrong and got Albania one of its best results! The bridge between the second verse and chorus has a great chord progression (which was given more space in the revamp), and he deserved qualification for that alone. And those high notes.

(Also, he's probably the best dressed guy of his year...good job Eugent, good job.)

Personal ranking: 7th/43 Actual ranking: 11th/26 GF in Lisbon

[unforth]

Today in “random shit that got totally away from me,” I just wrote almost 6k of this nonsense instead of anything for Kinktober or my tweet fic. Oops.

So I started thinking about MDZS Harry Potter AUs. Yes, JK is a trash human being but eh HP does still hold a place in my heart so I don't mind putzing with it as long as I never again put another penny her pocket. Anyway, all the HP AUs I've seen seem to be focused on Hogwarts and who'd be in which house, that kind of thing, and it felt all wrong to me because the sects are different schools of thought...that's literally the point...so shouldn't they be different schools? And this is where I took that...this is really more like a fusion than an AU and I've butchered canon and how magic works for both HP and MDZS but oh well, here goes... 

(ships: WangXian, SangCheng, Luo Qingyang/Wen Qing, Xuanli until it’s not, Wen Ning/Jiang Yanli, and others)

Wei Wuxian is born a muggle, the child of a witch and a muggle who decide to leave the wizarding world and raise their child without the prejudices and problems that surrounded them and their relationship. However, the world catches up with them, and both die when Wei Wuxian is only 4 years old. He gets kicked into the foster system, and it takes over five years before he's finally brought to a family that seems to be long term - old friends of his mother's and, as he'll learn, old wizarding blood, the Jiang family. Wei Wuxian has shown no sign of being magical to that point but, then, he also had no idea that magic was a thing, and existed outside that paradigm completely. He learns right quick though. His new parents, Yu Ziyuan and Jiang Fengmian, are both powerful wizards, and their eldest daughter is already at Jinlin Tower, studying to follow on their footsteps. His foster brother, Jiang Cheng, talks excitedly and sometimes sneeringly about his own expectations of going, and that Wei Wuxian won't be. To say he's jealous would be an understatement, but more than that, he's sorely disappointed, because aside from his occasional arrogance, Jiang Cheng is the closest thing to a friend, the closest thing to family, he's ever had. His new parents are okay, he supposes...certainly better than some he's had...but Yu Ziyuan barely tolerates him and Jiang Fengmian's condescending form of affection isn't much better. Further, Wei Wuxian is old enough that he hears the rumors. People at Lotus Pier whisper that he's actually Jiang Fengmian's child, that JFM loved the witch Cangse Sanren and that he acted on that affection, possibly without her consent. How dark the rumors tended depended on who said them, and everyone made Wei Wuxian wish that he'd never been brought to Lotus Pier, even if he at least was no longer starving. 

Anyway. Events unfold, as they tend to do. Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng grow close. Jiang Yanli returns from school for holidays and Wei Wuxian quickly grows to adore her. When he's with his siblings he can forget how garbage the rest of his life is, and his hope for the future improves when he accidentally dyes Jiang Cheng purple from head to toe (after JC punched him because he called JC a grape). At first this seems like a dream come true - he can do magic, so he can go to the school! - but as seems to always happen in his life, the good news gets balanced by a heavy dose of bad, as the worst rumor mongers take this revelation as a sign that he couldn't have possibly had a muggle for a father, and their vituperation grows louder, and Yu Ziyuan's behavior grows more abusive. 

At least he'll get to leave. 

Except going also proves a mixed blessing, as the school is just as much a rumor factory as Lotus Pier is...heck, maybe more of one. The Jin family, also old blood, run the place, and teach according to their own principals. Virtually everyone there is from a long ancient line of wizards, and they all look down their noses at Wei Wuxian for being half blood, and he's bullied a lot, and Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli are bullied by extension, which is even worse. He does his best to keep his head down, but usually fails, since he can accept any amount of hatred heaped on his own head but refuses to stand down if his brother and sister are insulted. His repeated run ins with Jin Zixuan, heir to Jinlin Tower, affianced of Jiang Yanli, and tool douche bag incarnate especially lead to trouble, not because Jin Zixuan himself is so bad...he's a tool douche bag but he's essentially harmless...but his family is less so. His cousin Jin Zixun is especially vile, and the number of encounters with him that Wei Wuxian keeps secret lest Jiang Cheng learn and intervene and experience the same or worse is sizeable. 

Still, for all the bad, he's mostly happy at school and it's still better than being at Lotus Pier. Their classmates are from the Jin and the clans that follow them - it turns out the only reason the Jiang are there instead of at their own school is that it's part of the arranged marriage between Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli - and while the main clan is full of assholes, their followers include some damn good folk. Wei Wuxian develops an especially close friendship with Luo Qingyang. He also excels at magic, which eventually begins to pay dividends. The first couple years he's there, his classmates have all been doing magic since they were in their cradles and he's racing to catch up, but by the time he's 14, 15, 16, the playing field is more even and those who were cruel to him have mostly been visited by highly unpleasant pay back - if not from Wei Wuxian himself, then from Jiang Cheng or Luo Qingyang. 

His 6th year, when he's 17, is a big deal for several reasons. First, Jiang Yanli graduates...and immediately starts an internship at the school's infirmary, ostensibly because she's interested in medicine, actually because no one wants too much distance between her and Jin Zixuan. Speaking of whom, secondly...he's a jackass and a peacock but he has improved with age, and Wei Wuxian can almost tolerate him for short periods of time, especially because his doing so makes Jiang Yanli happy. Jin Zixun is still irredeemable but Wei Wuxian is unsurprised there. But the biggest event is that it's time for the biannual competition between the greatest sects in the world, and this time Jinlin Tower is hosting. Everyone who wants to participate may, and it's basically an Olympics for people in their 6th and 7th years - no one else is eligible. There are competitions in martial arts, wizarding duels, arranged battles against monsters, Night Hunts, races. Each competitor is scored based on their performance, and after each event, fewer people are able to advance to the next round, until the final event is a two-on-two-on-two-on-two battle between the top pairs from each school - Jinlin Tower, Cloud Recesses, Unclean Realm and Nightless City. If two from one school are still standing at the end (highly unusual, generally one is eliminated before the other) then they will fight to determine a final winner, who gets accolades, attention, a mess of flowers, a few medals, at least two marriage proposals...and respect, which is the only one of those things Wei Wuxian gives a shit about. 

Wei Wuxian is *determined* to be one of the two - and that Jiang Cheng will be the other. He can think of no better way to show up the haters, and anyway, it sounds fun as hell. 

The school year up until the start of the competition, held every spring, is dull dull dull, but finally the long awaited day arrives, and with it come the 6th and 7th years from the other schools and the teachers sent to chaperone them. Cloud Recesses arrives first, punctual to the second, and god are they a snooze fest. Their leader, Lan Qiren, drones on and on during his welcome speech, and his students all stand in lock step and hang on every boring word. When Wei Wuxian has the audacity to yawn, one in particular glares murder at him, and Luo Qingyang explains to him in a hurried whisper that that's the famous Lan Wangji, second son of the family, heir to Cloud Recesses, and widely considered the hands-down favorite to win the entire event. 

After them, the Unclean Realm contingent arrives, led by Nie Mingjue, youngest of the current school leaders. They seem very battle oriented, all heavily armed with more than just wands, except for a disinterested young man at Nie Mingjue's side - his brother, Nie Huaisang, Luo Qingyang helpfully explains. 

("How do you know all this??" Wei Wuxian hisses.) 

("Latest issue of Teen Witch did a profile on everyone favored to win from each school!") 

("...oh yeah? What'd they say about me?") 

("You weren't in there, dumbass, they profiled Jin Zixuan and Jin Zixun.") 

("And you trust them to be right about literally *anything* if they think those two are the favorites from here?") 

("Shut up, at least it means I know something about the competition we'll face.") 

("Will you *both* shut up?" interjected an exasperated Jiang Cheng, "because if not, I WILL curse you for the duration of the welcome...") 

Nie Huaisang is fun to watch, because he seems as bored as Wei Wuxian feels, and because he is high enough in the pecking order that no one gives him shit for it. Watching him is even slightly cathartic. But too soon, their school goes to their table - another vote in favor of the Unclean Realm, their welcome speech was short and to the point - and then the Nightless City students step up. Their leader is a sneering youth ("winner of the competition six years ago," Luo Qingyang supplies) named Wen Xu, son of the school's head, because they are so arrogant they didn't bother sending their headmaster. They’re also the only school to send two chaperones, and Wei Wuxian feels an instant connection with the other, an attractive young woman, because the murderous glare she directs at the back of Wen Xu's head is truly a thing of beauty, and grows more intense the longer he babbles bombast, arrogance and stupidity. 

Finally, the welcome ends, and the houses share a banquet. There are various "getting to know you" events scheduled, and a prom-like ball halfway through the competition. It’s interesting to see the relative sociability of the different groups as the events commenced. The Lans from Cloud Recesses, for example, keep almost entirely to themselves. They make minimal efforts to mingle but only because they’re expected to. The Nie, on the other hand, are incredibly happy to meet new people, and Wei Wuxian ends up friends with Nie Huaisang almost by accident - there was a bird, a curse backfire, a talking staircase and a gigantic bubblegum bubble involved but the less said in general the better - and it gives him hope for the future. His prospects of staying at Lotus Pier are dim - even if they wanted him there he didn't want to stay, especially after Jiang Yanli leaves for her wedding and Jiang Cheng launches into his duties as heir. Nie Huaisang likes him, and has influence at Unclean Realm, and hints more than once that they don’t share the prejudices of some of the other families since it’s well known they'd been founded by a late-blooming spellcasting muggle. Wei Wuxian is self-interested enough to forward the friendship even if he didn't enjoy Nie Huaisang's company...but he does, and that just makes it so much the better. 

The Wens from Nightless City, on the other hand, are a problem. They love to interact...if arrogance, condescension, aloofness and bullying can be called interacting. They don’t even spare members of their own family, and Wei Wuxian saw a lot of parallels to his own treatment at Jinlin Tower in how Wen Ning, Wen Chao's cousin and younger brother of the second chaperone, is treated. Wei Wuxian intervenes more than once to protect Wen Ning - from the other Wens, from Jin Zixun, even from a random Lan once. 

Thus do things stand when events finally start. They make for a weird clique - Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng, Luo Qingyang, Nie Huaisang, and Wen Ning vaguely shadowing them while clearly trying not to get too close. In events where they can aid each other, they do. In events where they can’t, they at least try not to directly act against each other. Lesser names are quickly eliminated from the competition, and the leader board is mostly those who'd been expected, in part because a lot of clan members go out of their way to support their clans' favorite. Lan Wangji, that second Lan son from Cloud Recesses, leads in points, and that’s extra impressive since the Lan are the only clan that AREN’T cheating to help him get ahead. Lesser members of the Nie routinely act to help Nie Huaisang instead of themselves, which is especially absurd since Nie Huaisang himself seems indifferent. The Wen actively cheat, and are sanctioned for it three times, to forward Wen Chao, Wen Xu's younger brother and their clan's favorite. And the Jinlin Tower contingent strives to put Jin Zixuan on top...and Jin Zixun strives to unseat him. 

So, basically, it it’s all a huge mess, especially early on when the entirety of all four schools are involved. 

The first of Wei Wuxian's friend circle eliminated is Luo Qingyang. She takes it in stride even though it had been a bullshit technicality and Wen Chao's fault to boot, and immediately begins conspiring from outside the competition to help the others. Things proceed apace, event after event, and despite some obvious attempts by lesser Jinlin Tower folk to sabotage Wei Wuxian, he of course still does well, especially at the magical competitions. He hung on through a dismal showing against a giant dog (his phobia’s triggered and it’s one on one so no one can help him) thanks mostly to an exceptional performance during an transfiguration and enchantment event, that he won easily and to everyone's amazement, even beating the unparalleled Lan Wangji. Jiang Cheng is doing well too, not exceptional at anything, but never near the bottom, either, which keeps him afloat, and it helps that he never does anything that sinks himself to float Jin Zixuan or Jin Zixun. The ball comes closer by the day, and the events are spaced farther apart later in the competition to give competitors time to heal and prepare, and as more people are eliminated, the ball becomes the premier talk of the group - what to wear, who to ask, who else has asked who and who has said yes and who has said no, all gossip all the time. Nie Huaisang seems especially invested, even though he hasn't been eliminated...he seems to find it fun, while giving zero information about his own intentions as regard a companion. 

Jiang Cheng asks a pretty Lan girl, and is turned down, and Luo Qingyang, and is turned down, and at least three other people, with no success. (Nie Huaisang whispers that this is because Wen Chao has threatened to hurt anyone who says yes to him...Luo Qingyang says it’s because Jiang Cheng is an idiot and a dick.) 

Luo Qingyang refuses to say who she’s asking, leaves to do it...and returns aglow, saying that the person she'd asked has said yes...but still won’t say who that is.

Wen Ning mumbles that a Jin girl he didn’t know had asked him, and he said yes, and he supposes it’ll be fine. It troubles all his friends, since he’s actually incredibly sweet, but that anyone at all asked him seems to be a shock, and that anyone else might do so - or that he might ask someone he liked, and they might say yes - both are apparently so implausible to Wen Ning that he won’t even consider it.

Wei Wuxian asks no one. It’s not that he doesn’t want a partner at the ball...he does, he supposes...but he can’t find the motivation. He’s worried he got eliminated during the last event, and he won’t find out until the banquet before the ball, when the final 16 competitors will be announced, and the uncertainty is making him jumpy and anxious. So, he dithers, and he supports his friends, and he messes with their enemies, and he takes a dilatory approach to preparing for the next event (a dragon hunt) that he may or may not have qualified for…

...and then Jiang Cheng takes him aside, like, “dude you’ve got to find *someone*!”

“Why?”

“ ‘Cause all of the top 16 need a date!”

“Then you’re boned, aren’t you…”

“So’re you! Anyway, you’re wrong, I’ve got someone.”

“I didn’t make it, a-di...I’m sure I didn’t…and wait, you do? Who is it?”

“Like I’d tell you.”

“You’re a damn liar, you ain’t go no one.”

“No, I’m set, but you’ll sure look like a dumbass if I’m right and you need a date…”

And, well, Jiang Cheng has a point...so Wei Wuxian keeps an ear to the ground, trying to figure out who is still available. The pickings are slim...there are a lot of hopeful younger students, but...no. Just no. At least a dozen people have asked Wei Wuxian, but he’s turned them all done, and now everyone seems to be paired...and then a few hours before the banquet, Luo Qingyang grabs him. 

“Pssst, I heard you need a date.”

“Why’re you whispering? Is it a secret?”

“Ask Lan Wangji.”

Wei Wuxian can only blink at her, because *what the actual fuck.* Lan Wangji is leading the competition, and he’s gorgeous, and yeah, he has a shit personality, but even so he must have had every single person in the school and every other school tripping over themselves to ask. Further, if there’s one person he will definitely say no to, it’s Wei Wuxian, because ever since that first time Wei Wuxian yawned during Lan Qiren’s shitty speech, Lan Wangji has hated him. During every meet and greet, during every event, whenever Wei Wuxian glances Lan Wangji’s way, Lan Wangji is glaring at him, scowling, like Wei Wuxian is a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe...and yeah that DID happen, it was part of the whole meeting Nie Huaisang debacle, but still, Wei Wuxian has been doing decently, and has tried to be nice to the guy, and nothing. Still, Luo Qingyang is incredibly persuasive when she wants to be, and finally, Wei Wuxian caves, if only to get her to leave him alone. Lan Wangji is easy to find, lingering in the common room assigned to his school, sitting and reading, still in the white robes he always wears (the girls all swoon at his miraculous ability to keep them pristine through every competition, and there are running bets on what it’ll finally take to stain them) and apparently indifferent to the frenetic preparations that those around him are hurrying through.

“Hey, Lan Wangji!”

Lan Wangji shoots that disdainful stare at him again.

“Heard you don’t have a date for tonight, is that true?”

Lan Wangji shrugs, eyes back on his book.

“You know all the top competitors need one, right?”

Lan Wangji shrugs again.

“So, you wanna go with me or what?”

The book crashes to the floor and Wei Wuxian is amazed to see Lan Wangji...react? To literally anything? Ever? By looking stricken, and surprised, and taken aback, and maybe a little horrified?

“Ugh, fine, well if my proximity offends you that bad...at least I can tell Luo Qingyang I tried.” And Wei Wuxian manages his own shrug, turns to walk away...and a hand on his shoulder stops him. Turning...there’s Lan Wangji, eyes wide, lips slightly parted, long hair swooping about his shoulders, crap is he pretty, no wonder he’s got half the school in love with him, no wonder he only finds flaws with Wei Wuxian, just like everyone else, no wonder--

“Seriously?”

...what?

Wei Wuxian nods slowly and Lan Wangji’s expression softens.

“Thought you and she were a couple.”

Shocking thing the first: Lan Wangji spoke. Shocking thing the second: Lan Wangji touched him. Shocking thing the third: Lan Wangji has paid enough attention to Wei Wuxian to have drawn conclusions about his love life. Shocking thing the fourth: Lan Wangji apparently has a personality of some kind? Shocking thing the fifth: Lan Wangji certainly doesn’t appear to hate him??

Too confused to speak, Wei Wuxian shakes his head.

“I would be pleased to go to the ball with you.”

Shocking thing the sixth: Lan Wangji ACTUALLY WANTS TO GO WITH HIM.

The entire common room goes still, apparently everyone else is as shocked as Wei Wuxian, and then they break into congratulatory hurrahs.

“Whelp, good, okay then,” Wei Wuxian manages, still too asea to have any idea what the hell just happened. “Guess I’d better go get ready. You too. I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

The banquet opens with Jin Guangshan rising and pompously announcing who the top 16 are - among them, Wen Chao and Wen Ning both have made it, and Lan Wangji of course, and Nie Huaisang, and the four from the Jin are Jin Zixuan, Jin Zixun, Jiang Cheng, and Wei Wuxian. He’s so amazed he can only stand, and he glances to Lan Wangji...and gets a smile in return??? And what has his day become he has no idea what’s going on!!

After the meal, the first dance is called, and the way people pair off prompts scads of whispers. Jin Zixuan is the obvious one, of course he’s with Jiang Yanli, and neither looks particularly happy about it. Jin Zixuan keeps glancing toward a Nie girl that Wei Wuxian doesn’t know, and if Wei Wuxian didn’t know better (and after the day he’s had, he’s genuinely not sure if he DOES know better) he’d think that Jiang Yanli kept glancing to Wen Ning. Jiang Cheng gives Wei Wuxian a smirk as he and Nie Huaisang go out hand in hand, only to have it fade into stunned wide eyed WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCKness when Wei Wuxian goes out with Lan Wangji. It’s clear almost immediately that neither actually knows how to dance, but they both know how to fight, and it sort of translates, and things actually go pretty well.

Dancing with Lan Wangji is nice.

Being near Lan Wangji is nice.

The soft timber of Lan Wangji’s voice on the rare occasions he speaks is nice.

The whole evening is...really surprisingly nice. Memories of all the times Lan Wangji looked at him come back...why WAS Lan Wangji always looking at him? Clearly, Wei Wuxian has mixed everything up monumentally, and he’s starting to wonder if Luo Qingyang suspected as much when she sent him on what he’d thought a wild goose chase, but there’s no asking her, because as soon as the floor opens to the general group so everyone can dance, she’s on the floor with Wen Qing, of all people - it hadn’t even occurred to Wei Wuxian that he could ask a chaperone - and the two are staring adoringly into each other’s eyes and Wei Wuxian would think it insane and weird except that once or twice he realizes he’s kinda sorta maybe vaguely giving Lan Wangji a similar look and what even is his life?

They end up kissing outside the Lan’s common room.

Wei Wuxian has no idea what’s going on but he’s not at all unhappy with the turn of events.

The last couple events are incredibly difficult, the moreso because Wen Chao and Jin Zixun have each either collaboratively or independently decided that this is their last chance to try to get their fiercest competition eliminated. Jin Zixuan loses the next one badly, and Nie Huaisang also seems only too pleased to bow out. The other Wens team up against Wen Ning and he’s eliminated, and almost badly injured, and then they move on Wei Wuxian, and he only holds on by the skin of his teeth...and, he comes to suspect, because Jiang Cheng did something, because that’s the only explanation he’s got for why Jiang Cheng is eliminated even though Jin Zixun bombed one of the events. Eventually, the final 8 are chosen…

Wen Chao and some other Wen.

Lan Wangji and some other Lan.

Two random Nies.

And Jin Zixun and Wei Wuxian.

Intent on preparing even though he knows Jin Zixun hates him, Wei Wuxian approaches him. They’re supposed to work together against the other six, after all...but Jin Zixun won’t even talk to him, so Wei Wuxian assumes he’s actually on his own and does his own preparation. That morning, he’s absolutely sick to his stomach. Rumor is that some students have died in the duels before. It’s no holds barred, no spells off limits, even an Unforgivable Curse would be allowed if someone actually knew one. Weapons, sword-flying, everything is allowed. Wei Wuxian has his sword Suibian, his flute and his wand when he joins the others. They all look fidgety, and the only one who spares Wei Wuxian a glance is Lan Wangji, and he looks concerned. They’ve spent time together as they’ve been able, but it’s been little enough, the event occupying most of their time, and Wei Wuxian was in the hospital for a week after the last event with no visitors allowed. 

“Be careful out there,” Lan Wangji murmurs to him, giving his hand a squeeze, and Wei Wuxian can only return the sentiment, but he’s not worried. Lan Wangji has led the competition since day one, and leads it still, and everyone is assuming he’ll win, presumably with his white robes still pristine.

Finally, the final duel starts, and Wei Wuxian realizes immediately that it’s so much worse than he feared, when the Wen opposing Wen Chao eliminates himself, and Jin Zixun ignores all foes to immediately turn on Wei Wuxian, and he loses track of what the others are doing because fighting Jin Zixun takes all his focus. Jin Zixun has been training for this his whole life, and he’s a year older, and whereas Wei Wuxian doesn’t actually particularly want to harm him, Jin Zixun’s every action makes it clear he couldn’t care less if he kills Wei Wuxian. It’s as hard a battle as anything he’s ever done, and it’s only when Wei Wuxian stops pulling his punches (he can hear his friends screaming at him that he’s an idiot from the sidelines) that he finally FINALLY wins.

But the cost has been high.

His qi is depleted. His body aches. He’s bleeding from multiple wounds and from the mouth. Suibian has been tossed from the competition area, and his wand is broken, leaving him with only Chenqing. And he’s got no idea who else is left, who might yet be in his way…

...and oh god, is he going to have to fight Lan Wangji? He won’t do it, no matter what…

...and he takes a step back, and Wen Chao’s voice shouts - he must have been lurking, waiting for the end of Wei Wuxian’s battle, knowing whoever won would be weakest and least on guard immediately after - and the word cruciatus echoes across the suddenly silent arena, and Wei Wuxian squeezes his eyes shut in preparation for agony...and it never comes. 

He opens his eyes.

Lan Wangji stands before him, panting with effort, his guqin before himself, his fingers on the strings as he uses his own qi to catch the Unforgivable curse and contain it. The effort of it is clearly great; a cough spurts blood from Lan Wangji’s mouth, staining red down the front of his pristine white robes, but he doesn’t give up, and Wen Chao’s expression contorts as he tries and tries to force the spell through Lan Wangji’s resistance...and then it explodes in Wen Chao’s face, and he screams as the backfire casts the spell on himself.

“Wen Chao - eliminated!”

Lan Wangji collapses to his knees, spells evaporating in a swirl of blue motes. His wand falls to the ground near Wei Wuxian’s feet, and he uncertainly picks it up. It feels odd in his hands, but he’s sure he could cast with it.

“Why?” whispers Wei Wuxian.

“I couldn’t let him hurt you.”

“Who’s left?”

“You and me.”

And this is it - his moment. Lan Wangji is hurt, down, bloody and muddy. Wei Wuxian is exhausted and hurt, but he’s up, and he’s got Chenqing, and he could do plenty with it even if he doesn’t want to use Lan Wangji’s wand...and why wouldn’t he want to use the wand?...Wei Wuxian could get everything he wants, the prize, the respect, the marriage proposals, everything...but Lan Wangji couldn’t let Wen Chao hurt him, and Wei Wuxian can’t possibly, can’t FATHOM, hurting Lan Wangji.

“I’m out,” he shouts to the judges.

“Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian will engage in a wizard’s duel to determine a final winner.”

“I won’t,” Wei Wuxian bellows back.

“Eliminate me,” Lan Wangji whispers, for his ears alone. “I always knew you were going to beat me.”

As if that’s not the craziest shit Wei Wuxian has ever heard.

“You’re the brightest young master of our generation, Lan Wangji...it was always going to be you.” And Wei Wuxian realizes he means that in so many more ways than merely as regards the competition.

Because Wei Wuxian feels so much more toward Lan Wangji than he’d ever imagined he could toward anyone, much less toward the supposedly cold and indifferent and aloof Second Young Master Lan.

“Very well,” Wei Wuxian murmurs. Lan Wangji closes his eyes. “Petrificus totalus!” Wei Wuxian shouts...and aims the wand at his own feet.

And the next thing he’s aware of, he’s in the infirmary, and Jiang Yanli and...Wen Qing and Wen Ning???...are there, and Wen Qing is leaning over him while the other two have a hushed conversation across the room. Six of the seven other finalists are there as well - the self-eliminated Wen didn’t hurt himself badly enough to need the hospital - and Wen Qing is roughly jabbing at a pierced wound in his side, ignoring his grimace and soft protest.

“You’re all idiots, and this is all stupid, and I have no idea why any of the schools sanction this insanity, and you shut your face, Wei Wuxian, and let me do my job…” 

He can’t really argue with her. Everything hurts too much anyway.

So Lan Wangji is awarded winner, but given that he spends that night in Wei Wuxian’s arms, Wei Wuxian is pretty sure that he’s the actual winner. He got his respect, too - beating Jin Zixun one on one impressed a LOT of people, and before the houses all leave to go back to their own clans, Nie Mingjue offers him a job post-graduation, and Jiang Cheng gets all offended since obviously Wei Wuxian will be working for him, and Lan Wangji promises to send him owls every day, and Wei Wuxian lies through his teeth when he assures Lan Wangji that he’ll do the same (it’s not a lie because he doesn’t want to, but because he knows he’s not a fraction well enough organized to actually pull something like that off), and Wen Qing and Luo Qingyang exchange tearful farewells...and Wen Ning stays, which is surprising and excellent, and in amazingly short order, things go back to normal…

...except they never quite go back to normal.

Because Jin Zixuan breaks off his engagement to Jiang Yanli, announcing that he’s too in love with that Nie girl who’s name Wei Wuxian still doesn’t know to consider marrying simply to satisfy his family.

And because as soon as she’s at liberty to do so, in front of the entire assembly, Jiang Yanli stalks across the room, grabs the front of Wen Ning’s robes, and hauls him into a kiss.

And because Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng solve the “which clan gets to keep Wei Wuxian” problem by announcing their own engagement.

And because Jin Zixun graduates at the end of the year, and as soon as he’s gone all the Jin who used to torment Wei Wuxian sheepishly apologize and say Jin Zixun made them - themselves or Wei Wuxian - and while he doesn’t forgive them their abuses, he can at least tolerate being their classmates.

And because Luo Qingyang announces that she’s renouncing the Jin clan, and that she and Wen Qing are planning to ride off into the sunset and start their own clan with two well known independent wizards of their acquaintance, Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan. They pointedly suggest that Wei Wuxian go with them.

And because Lan Wangji keeps his promise and sends Wei Wuxian a letter every day, and Wei Wuxian - wonder of wonders - succeeds in replying daily, by giving up on the idea of sending letters and instead sending drawings. Lan Wangji loves the idea of joining the new sect.

And because, after graduation, when Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng try to claim him, they find themselves beaten to the punch, because Lan Wangji has already got him heart, soul, body and mind. The two begrudgingly conceded that Lan Wangji can marry him, as long as he’ll continue to be part of all three clans, and help with enchantments and Night Hunts and whatever else.

Wei Wuxian is shocked to find himself so wanted, and does everything he can to satisfy all the claims on him.

It’s a way better life than Wei Wuxian had ever dared to hope for.

And he’s got every reason to think it’s only going to get better and better.

[sstrongstyle]

𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐲 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Adam Cole x OC, mentions of Seth Rollins x OC 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: After nearly a decade of being the golden girl of WWE, Adaline Marin wants out. Their ring was no longer home, haunted by her first love and upon reaching her thirties, the face behind "Aspen Glory" wonders if the passion she once had was still ablaze. Instead, she gets sent down to NXT to join the Undisputed Era. The next three hundred and sixty-five days, all captured by cameras for the history books, become a year of revival, reinvention, and realization with her legacy at stake and a new flame from the past emerging. 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: All characters are referred to by their real life names (for the most part)

CHAPTER TWO.

June 7th, 2019

There was always something about Florida that Adaline hated. It reminded her of her days stuck down in developmental, rotting away in that ugly FCW warehouse with a princess gimmick that got her nowhere. Realizing that this was her new home, as one of the currently most decorated talent in WWE's women's division, was like a punch to the gut. It wasn't supposed to be a downgrade, considering the heights that NXT had reached in recent times, but it sure as hell felt like that. Passing by new, unknown faces in the Performance Centre, who gawked at her veteran presence, made it feel like that. Young female talent coming up to her and telling her how much of an inspiration she was to them starting their careers felt like that.

"Yeah, it hurts a bit, but you have to look at the bigger picture." Mattias was the first one to welcome Adaline to NXT with open arms. "It's a fresh start and in all honesty, I trust the suits down here more than the suits up on top." Earlier in the day, he decided to play tour guide and show her around the main backstage area of the Full Sail taping location.

Adaline rolled her eyes. "They all suck." She tried her best to hide her disdain from day one, but being around Matt allowed her to let her guard down. He, of course, went through the same thing when Tyler Breeze was sent packing back to Winter Park after years on the main roster. However, she didn't expect such a twinkling look in his eyes, a hint of happiness in them, considering he was fresh off Takeover XXV on a title match.

Every NXT alumni spoke so fondly of their time down in the black and gold brand. Maybe a part of her always wondered what it would have been like to stay in Florida a little longer in 2012, instead of taking a cannonball into the formation of The Shield. It seemed like Adaline no longer had to wonder on what could've been.

Nothing felt right. She was wearing a stuffy formal outfit, or as close to formal as Adaline Marin could get. Wide legged dress pants and a strappy crop top, if Adaline wasn't going to pay her respects to Vincent Kennedy McMahon himself, there was no way she was going to force herself into anything "professional." In a way, it was almost her method of showing Hunter just how pissed off she was.

She was three months removed from main eventing Wrestlemania and out of nowhere, she's down at the PC with kids who don't know how to perform a suplex.

"Listen, you may be a little pissed off—" was the first thing that left his mouth and Adaline couldn't help but snort.

The last stop on Matt's tour was Hunter's office, where Adaline was schedule for an early morning meeting with him. It was about nine o'clock and she had barely escaped running into any of the other talent. Her debut was supposed to be kept under wraps and while it didn't hurt for a few people on the roster to learn about it, Adaline herself didn't want it to be spread around so soon.

Hunter gave her a pointed look. "We have big plans for you here."

"I sure hope so, because so did a certain other company." The shit eating grin on Adaline's face was more than a little disrespectful, but he wasn't even fazed. Her statement was nothing less than the truth. It was inevitable that other promotions came knocking on her door and had been planning to do so, as the expiry date of her time with WWE had been on the mind of many for months leading up to it.

"You won't regret re-signing, Adaline," he said, choosing to ignore her statement.

Adaline wanted to believe that she wasn't making a mistake, but after months off television and headaches surrounding her contract negotiations, a part of her thinks that she simply re-signed out of annoyance. They saw how well she did when she left for two years and they were afraid that Adaline was going to go and do the same with the three letter A named company looming over their nightmares. WWE was persistent and they promised her everything she wanted and more—only, she wasn't told that it was going to be at Full Sail University.

She forced herself to smile a bit. "Why so?" Adaline was hoping that she would find out what the meeting was for, sooner rather than later. After all, she'd yet to receive word of anything from the creative team and it felt like she was completely in the dark.

A soft whine indicated that Hunter's door was being creaked open. His eyes brightened at the new presence and the corner of his lips twitched upwards. Hunter then turned back to Adaline.

"This is why."

Slowly rotating her body, she raised an eyebrow at the sight. The four members of The Undisputed Era. Austin, Kyle, Bobby, and Christopher. None of them seemed to expect her either, as they stared back in confusion. It took Adaline a moment to put two and two together and when she did, the wind was knocked right out of her.

Nobody could argue with the facts: The Undisputed Era was one of the best things to come out of NXT in recent times. That was definitely saying something, considering the immense talent rumbling at the core of the brand and the stars that have shone after walking away from the shadows of Full Sail. But, that was the thing. Adaline wanted nothing to do with it or NXT. Her own words echoed in her head, what she had relayed to Trinity following her contract negotiations and hearing of the plans they had for her.

"I'm not some young upstart. My career isn't hanging on by a thread, scraping by for a second chance. I didn't just claw out of the indies, looking to prove myself under the bright lights. I've been here, Trin, and I don't need NXT. They surely don't need me."

This was also what she had sent Hunter over email, which he promptly ignored and instead sent her schedule for the week. He intentionally left out anything from the creative team and the upcoming plans for the taping. Looking at the mischievous glint in the King of King's eyes, Adaline realized why.

The first person to greet her was Kyle, whose lips immediately stretched out into a wide grin. "Addie!" He stepped forward and scooped her up from her seat into a bear hug.

For a moment, all of the irritation in Adaline's body washed away and she even let the giggle bubbling at the base of her throat escape. It'd been so long since she'd seen Kyle's goofy smile and his ginger hair. An old friend that she hadn't seen in a long time, even if they both technically worked under the same company. He was like unexpected sunshine after a week of clouds and her heart was wide open for it.

A second body joined Kyle's embrace and she didn't have to look up to know that it was Christopher.

Christopher had been in Adaline's life from very beginning. He was the one that yelled at her the loudest when she was a rookie at the ROH Dojo. When Colby couldn't join her on the west coast, Chris was her road buddy to every PWG show. He hosted her goodbye party when she signed with FCW in 2011 and kept in touch with her up until he finally joined WWE years later.

"No. Way." Christopher started, eyes wide.

She pulled away from the hug and proceeded to walk over to the other two members of Undisputed. Adaline politely greeted Bobby, pulling him into a quick hug. The two weren't as well acquainted, as their paths only briefly crossed in between Adaline leaving WWE and Bobby entering it. He was always nice to her, though, and she only ever heard good things about him through their many mutual friends. The world of wrestling was small and the same social circle ran throughout, no matter the promotion or country.

Then, there was Austin.

She always thought that his smile lit up an entire room, the way his eyes turned up to project nothing but pure angelic energy. He was dressed casually, in basketball shorts and a zip up—as the rest of the group was, it seemed like they had just arrived to the Full Sail arena—but, he made it look too good. Long hair pulled into a bun, so that his clear blue eyes were on full display. Austin was another man that Adaline shared many mutual friends with and their careers had surely intertwined countless of times on different wrestling promotion cards.

That was all Austin was supposed to be, until Japan happened. Very few words were exchanged between the two ever since, even after Austin's explosive Brooklyn debut in 2017 and Adaline's return six months later at the Rumble. They didn't talk unless they needed to, like when they awkwardly exchanged pleasantries at the last company Christmas party.

She nearly forgot about Hunter, who was pleased with what he was seeing. He leaned back into his leather chair, hands clasped together.

He said, "I'm guessing that we're all acquainted with Adaline?"

"Who isn't?" Kyle answered, with a small smirk playing on his face and a side eye towards Austin. The statement held more weight than what was at the surface and Adaline caught on to it, sending him a glare. Someone knew about their history.

Austin cleared his throat. "Hey," he finally greeted her, though his eyes shifted elsewhere, as if he wanted to be anywhere in the world except for that office.

She felt the exact same, but she managed to force a soft small. Keep it professional, realize where they were and why they were there. Her focus shifted to that and her anger towards NXT settled, even just for the slightest amount.

Interrupting them, Hunter grinned. "Good. Because she will be your fifth member of the Undisputed Era."

Adaline had obviously seen that one coming, but hearing it out loud, letting the actual words hit her, felt like she was being drowned. The boys, however, didn't seem to have a clue as to why they were being called in to the big boss man's office. Excitement flashed upon their faces, with the exception of Austin's shocked expression. Eyebrows raised, he contrasted greatly with Kyle's whooping and fist pumping in the air.

"No way," Bobby said, laughing in disbelief.

"Starting this week, Aspen Glory is a member of the NXT roster," Hunter began to explain. "We have very big plans for you five, a definite future in the title picture. We want the WWE Universe to take UE seriously and that starts with gold hanging off of all of your shoulders. What's a bigger statement than all of you dominating each of the title scenes?"

For the first time since the ink dried on her brand new contract, Adaline wanted to feel excited. However, she could feel Austin's looming presence behind her and it equipped her with an uneasy anchor in her stomach, along with the restlessness already settled down there. "You're putting titles on all of us?" Adaline managed to distract herself, sputtering out what she thought she had heard from Hunter.

"That's the plan—" The way all of the four men before Adaline crumbled into complete happiness made her heart wrench. "—for now. Nothing is certain here, but everyone has high hopes."

"Nothing is certain, huh?" Adaline mumbled under her breath, but no one heard her.

Hunter looked at her. "Hey, Marin?" he said. "We didn't fight for you for no reason. You weren't on the main event at Mania for no reason. That also means that you're not here for no reason."

Eventually, the five were excused from Hunter's office, leaving them to face each other outside in the hallway. Kyle was basically bouncing off the walls, Chris grinning from ear to ear, a fired up energy radiating off of Bobby, and Austin. . .well, he didn't look as upset as Adaline would have expected from him. She on the other hand, didn't know how to feel. She was with some of her closest friends in the world and she was just essentially promised a title run. But, being apart of a stable again? Being with Austin?

"Lunch on me, tomorrow. There's no other way to welcome Addie to Undisputed," Christopher announced.

Austin cleared his throat. "Uh, yeah, we have to go film some stuff for the Network now." He checked the time on his phone.

If this was how the next months, year, whatever it was going to be, were going to go with Austin, Adaline was sure she was going to end up smashing a steel chair against her head.

"Right. I have another meeting to get to, so. . ." she bit her lip, looking at her shoes.

Bobby grinned. "You're getting added to the official Undisputed group chat."

"She's gonna get sick of your dad memes, man," Kyle remarked, causing the entire group to chuckle.

They began walking together, out into another corridor. The atmosphere wasn't awkward and the tension was slightly alleviated.

"You settled down in the city, yet? I can't believe you didn't say anything," Christopher said, arms crossed.

"Not really, I was planning to do the rest of my packing today," she replied. "I was told to stay quiet about it. And, honestly, it hasn't really sunk in yet." This was said, as she passed by an enormous NXT banner hanging from the top of a doorframe and her eyes remained fixated on it.

Bobby said, "Then, tomorrow's a good day to catch up, since today's so busy. We'll probably get the scripts for the taping by then, too, so we can work stuff out and bounce around some ideas."

They all stopped at the end of the hallway, with Adaline and the men about to go their separate ways.

Adaline opened her mouth, unsure of what to say for a moment, before she pressed her lips together in a smile. "I know a lot of stuff has been going around about me and what I want." There was no way she was going to let the boys think that she didn't want to be with them, but it was inevitable with how high-profiled her negotiations had been and the heat she'd gotten backstage for complaining about being taken off TV. "But, in all honesty, I'm excited for this. I didn't expect it, but I know that it's only going to go uphill from here." She let it slowly spill out, unsure of how to word her thoughts. Her qualms with NXT were still present, but she didn't want it to bring down her new group.

"Hey, I'd be pissed if I were you, too, Ms. Main Event," Austin piped up and she was taken aback by it, not expecting him to talk any more than he had to. "But, you'll like this place. Trust me."

"We'll make sure of it," Christopher nudged her.

The five exchanged their goodbyes for the day, promising to stay in contact and that lunch details would be forwarded to Adaline. She felt a little bad, wondering if her addition to the group threw off any creative plans they had in mind, but they seemed open enough to having her join. She watched them begin to walk away and she, too, turned around.

The day had only begun and it already felt like a whirlwind. There were still dozens of boxes waiting for her to be unpacked in her new Orlando home and she groaned at the thought. Adaline just had to get through one more meeting and she could escape Full Sail, where there were already roster members beginning to arrive to film content for tomorrow's tapings. She wanted to flop onto her bed, the only thing she had set up, because tomorrow was a full day with a trip to the back to the PC and getting settled with the guys. She wished she had someone to help her, but even Trinity in Pensacola was hours away.

That's when it begun to sink in. Adaline was completely alone. Sure, she had friends living in the area, but they were constantly scattered all over the country for RAW and Smackdown loops. The only familiar faces were Matt and Curtis, along with some other friends that she had yet to see, but they weren't family in the sense that some of her other friends were. That's who they became when Adaline exhausted herself, immersed in road life for the past decade.

"Uh, Adaline?"

She spun around, surprised once again by Austin, as he jogged towards her. The rest of the group was gone and he returned on his own. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Listen, I know we didn't really leave on the best foot in Japan and it's messed things up ever since I got here." Austin scratched the back of his neck. "But, since you're kind of stuck with me for who knows how long, it's probably best that we bury everything. For everything that happened, I'm sorry. Are we good?"

Adaline's eyes were wide. "Really?" She couldn't believe that stubborn Austin, the guy who never really was mature enough to own his mistakes out loud, went out of his way to clear the air. He would be the type of guy to beat around the bush or make up for things through his actions, but to apologize out loud?

"Really." He smiled, eyes turning up in the way that Adaline once fell for. That thought got stuck in her throat and she almost wanted to cry, but she blinked the emotions away hard enough. "You got us, Marin. It's been tough for you the past while, but the boys and I got your back."

Then, she began to realize that, maybe, she wasn't all alone. She didn't have to be unless she let herself. Adaline froze for a moment, before sticking out her hand. Austin, with a pleased expression on his face, took it and shook it gently, warmth radiating off of him.

"We're good."